


The Calm After the Storm

by Tangerine_Catnip



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dialogue Heavy, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Human Outsider (Dishonored), Lovecraft Lite, M/M, Magic, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Polyamory, Post DotO, Recreational Drug Use, Romantic Comedy, Threesome - F/M/M, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-05 09:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12187593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine_Catnip/pseuds/Tangerine_Catnip
Summary: “I never thought that this-,”  Billie said, gesturing towards The Outsider and all his newfound humanity. “- was a possibility. But I didn’t drag your behind out of the centre of the void just to leave you by the side of the road. You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you want.”





	1. A Little Less Lonely Together

At first, Billie had to carry most of The Outsider's weight, but with every step his newly mortal body took, the more he remembered. By the time they reached the surface of the abandoned mine, he was practically dragging her along, his green eyes fixed on the sliver of sunlight peeking in through the rotting wooden doors ahead of them.

Billie let go of his hand. He turned to look at her, and she gestured towards the doorway. He nodded and went on ahead, leaving her to take it at her own pace.

Billie felt tingles all over her body. The thick air of the void lingered in her lungs, and she could still see the after-images of that endless grey expanse every time she closed her eyes.

Billie shook her head and stepped into the light, feeling the golden rays and heat sink into her skin. The void had been so cold, she had almost forgotten what sunlight felt like.

Billie glanced over at her companion. He was standing with his arms spread, his head upturned towards the sky. If she was enjoying it after only spending an hour in the void, she couldn't imagine how it must feel after countless centuries.

Billie's lips moved ever so slightly towards a smile, right up until she noticed where The Outsider was looking.

"Uh, word of advice. Don't look directly at the sun."

The Outsider jerked and glanced over at her. "Oh, right. Of course," He said giving his head a shake. He rested his hand against his forehead and smoothed his silky brown hair away from his eyes.

"I still can't believe this," he murmured, taking another look around. "Or rather, I can't believe the fact that I can't believe something. That I don't know something."

Billie snorted and replied, "Yeah, well, that makes two of us."

Billie took a few steps towards a massive red mine cart loaded down with wooden timbers. A female eyeless cult member was laying beside it, face down in the dirt and snoring loudly.

Billie sidled back over to The Outsider and gently took his hand. "While I'd love to let you sunbathe, we better make ourselves scarce before any of the eyeless wake up. I don't know what they'd do if they saw their god hanging around, but I'd rather not find out."

The Outsider looked at her and nodded.

* * *

 

Billie adjusted her backpack on her shoulders. They were about a three-day hike from civilisation, but they could cut that in half if they didn't stop to sleep.

That didn't seem too likely though. Not when The Outsider was tripping over tree roots and pausing to gawk at every flower, mushroom, bird, or small furry rodent.

Mentally, Billie walked herself through the rations she had left in her pack.

(2) Tins of whale meat

(1) Loaf of dry bread

(12) Pieces of hardtack

(2) Slices of cheese

(8) Sticks dried hagfish

It would need to be stretched to feed two, but they wouldn't starve. It'd be strange sharing a meal with The Outsider. Although, doing anything with The Outsider probably qualified as strange. She would have to lower her standards for what counted.

Then something occurred to her and Billie turned around. She caught sight of the all-too-familiar figure behind her and jumped before her brain caught up to the fact that seeing him was exactly what she expected would happen.

"So, are you… hungry?" Billie said, honestly unsure if it was an appropriate question.

The Outsider blinked at her and frowned. "I… I'm not sure? What does being hungry feel like?"

"Uhhh…" Billie thought it over for a second. What  **did**  being hungry feel like? "It's like… you're stomach hurts? And you feel empty inside?"

The Outsider gave her a confused look and Billie sighed.

"I'm taking that as a no."

Billie kept walking down the sloped path until her whole body suddenly shuddered.

"Is something wrong?" The Outsider asked.

"Oh, no. I just thought that if you aren't hungry, that means there's 4000-year-old food inside your stomach, and I weirded myself out."

The Outsider stopped in his tracks, one hand resting on the bark of a tree. Billie stopped too, part of her realised this was a bad train of thought to be on, but she couldn't seem to stop.

"You haven't gone to the bathroom in 4000 years, either."

The Outsider snorted, but his cool smirk was betrayed by his cheeks starting to colour. "I… think you might be focusing on the wrong things."

"Says you. You haven't had to piss in centuries. Now that you're human, you're going to remember awful quick why mortals are so preoccupied with knowing where the nearest Lavatory is."

The hand on the tree tightened, and the colour in The Outsider's cheeks darkend. "Can… can we please keep moving?"

Billie shook her head. "I've done a lot of unbelievable shit today but 'made The Outsider blush' has got to be up there on the list."

She conceded to his request though, and the two of them continued. After another half-hour, the Outsider spoke again.

"I don't remember you being this… good-humoured."

Billie shrugged and replied, "I didn't really have time to crack jokes in-between spitting death threats and trying not to shit my pants in fear."

Billie thought back to the first time she had turned and seen The Outsider sitting behind her. Truth be told, it hadn't all been fear. There was a little excitement in there too. How could she not, after a lifetime of being so close to his power while never laying eyes on the man himself?

"But that was before I knew the dreaded-one was just a lonely guy in desperate need of a hug."

That comment earned Billie a laugh from her companion. It was a strange sound, almost painful, like he had forgotten how to do it properly.

"Technically speaking, I haven't received any hugs yet," He replied.

Billie bit down on her bottom lip. Despite her glibness, this was an area of social interaction she was rather rusty in. The last person who had hugged her platonically was Daud, when she had completed her first successful teleport over twenty years ago.

Still, what was a decade or two compared with four centuries?

She turned and held her arms open. The Outsider stopped and looked at her. His mouth opened then closed again. After another slightly awkward moment, he stepped forward into her.

Billie closed her arms around him, and he wrapped his around her hips. They were about the same height, she hadn't noticed that before. He could rest his chin comfortably on her shoulder, his soft breath playing over the back of her neck.

His skin was warm. The polar opposite of the icy grip she remembered from the first time he had touched her.

They stood there for a while, much longer then Billie would have thought she would allow, but eventually, she pulled back. The Outsider's fingers trailed along her hip before dropping back down to his side.

Billie almost said something then thought better. She turned and headed off.

A few more miles ahead, a stream cut their path in two. Billie kneeled and slung her pack off her shoulders. As if following her example, The Outsider sat down beside her.

Billie took her three canteens out of her pack, drinking the last out of one before dunking it in the river. When it was full, she pulled it out and passed the container to The Outsider. He almost dropped the canteen as the excess water dripped over his fingers. He held it in one hand and shock the other shaking the droplets free.

He raised the container to his lips and tilted it. Half of the water ended up on his front, but he didn't seem to notice. He started off with a slow sip then paused, his face scrunching up like a wolfhound that had gotten flower on its nose.

Billie was about to tell him he didn't need to drink if didn't feel like it when he tilted the canteen up again and started chugging it down.

Billie watched in mild amusement, right up until he started choking.

"Oh, shit…"

Billie reached over and delivered a few hearty slaps across the shoulders until he spit out a mouth full of water.

"Easy there. You need to breathe." Billie ran a hand over his back, waiting for The Outsider to catch his breath.

"Apologies…" he murmured, resting the canteen in his lap "I'd forgotten-"

"Just take it slow, alright? You have the rest of your life to drink all the water you want."

The Outsider smiled and nodded. "How many years will that be? Forty? Maybe sixty? Time that would have passed in the blink of an eye in the void."

Billie shrugged. "I think you'll find things happen a lot slower out here."

Billie let him finish drinking while she fished a few of the dried hagfish sticks out of a ration tin. She took a huge bite out of one of the sticks, grinding the leathery meat between her teeth as she passed the second one to The Outsider.

He took it cautiously, but after seeing Billie eat it without any ill-effects, he took a bite.

"It's not much of a first meal, but it's what I have," Billie explained.

The Outsider chewed on it slowly, which was the only way to eat hagfish jerky.

"This is amazing… it's… salty? And tough," The Outsider observed.

"Uhh… Yeah, It is." Billie agreed with a shake of her head.

They ate the rest in silence, listening to the river churn and bubble.

"I… I think I was hungry after all," The Outsider added, once he had finished the last bit.

"Try to keep track of that from now on. It's important." With that, Billie filled the rest of her canteens and started to pack up her bag.

"So, um… Do you have a plan?" The Outsider asked.

Billie glanced over at him. She wondered if she would ever get used to hearing him hesitate. Just this morning he had known everything, and now he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say next.

"We hike down this mountain and get to Karnaca's port."

"And after that?"

Billie hummed under her breath before admitting, "I have no idea."

She pulled her pack back on and stood up adding, "When the man who pulled you up from nothing sends you on a quest to kill a god, you don't really think about what's going to happen afterwards."

"I never thought that this..." Billie said, gesturing towards The Outsider and all his newfound humanity. "- was a possibility. But I didn't drag your behind out of the centre of the void just to leave you by the side of the road. You're welcome to stay with me as long as you want."

The Outsider blinked up at her. "Oh… I..." he trailed off. Billie could hardly blame him, he wasn't used to needing anything from anyone.

"Thank you," he finished, settling on the most direct reply.

"Don't mention it. Us street kids have to stick together, right?"

"Right."

* * *

 

Billie stared out over the ocean. The lights of Karnaca grew dimmer with every passing day. The endless expanse of the sea stretched out for miles around them. The cargo ship Billie had bribed their way onto cut through the glassy black like a knife, just scraping the surface of the vast and secretive word below.

Fresh salty air tussled her short hair, and Billie could feel the cold of the morning in the metal railing she was leaning on, even though her long black gloves.

When her arm was covered, it looked just as it did before The Outsider had replaced it. The gaps where bone met thin air still had a weight that the eye couldn't see.

Billie had been expecting her magic to go away once she freed The Outsider, but apparently whatever he had done to her was separate from his own connection to the void. She wanted to ask him more questions about it, particularly because he suddenly seemed capable of giving straight answers.

Billie glanced over at her black-suited companion and amended her thought. He could give her straight answer when he wasn't puking his guts out into the ocean.

Billie reached over and patted his back.

"That boy of yours still hasn't found his sea legs?"

Billie turned to see the captain of the ship, leaning against the hull and smoking a pipe. She flashed him a vulgar hand gesture and replied. "Give him a break Sal, it's his first time on the ocean."

"Sure, sure. Just keep him above decks. The cabin boy has enough to clean as it is."

The old sailor wandered off towards the poop deck, and Billie leaned in towards her companion.

"Is it too late to go back to the void?" He muttered.

"Give it another day. You'll get used to it," Billie replied reassuringly. "It will be a month before we dock in Tyvia and by then you'll be so used to the sea you'll have a hard time sleeping without it."

The Outsider groaned, through the fact he was talking at all was a positive sign.

"Remind me why we're going to Tyvia again?"

"Because I'm still a wanted woman on this side of the isles, and it's about as far as we can go where my coin is still good."

"But it's so boring."

Billie raised both her eyebrows at him. "Good, I think you and I have earned some boring. Or are you not as sick of dark magic worshipping cults as I am?"

The Outsider bit his bottom lip and nodded, conceding the point. Billie settled down to her elbows on the railing and said "Speaking of boring, you're going to need a new name. One that can be pronounced by people who are still alive."

The Outsider considered for a moment then asked, "How about Megan?"

"No. I still need that one. Try again."

The Outsider smiled and paused for a little while longer this time.

"Owen."

Billie nodded. "Sure… but you can still think about it for a while if you want. You're probably going to be stuck with it for the rest of your life."

"Thanks, but I don't need it," The Outsider replied. His green eyes fixed out over the water. "Look, even they approve."

Megan was about to ask who he meant when a geyser of water erupted from the sea.

"Whales off the port side!"

The cry passed from sailor to sailor until the alarm had been herd by the whole ship.

"Shit," Billie hissed. After being the captain of her own ship, she knew that good-sized leviathan could sink a vessel like this with a flick of its massive tail.

"Don't worry. It's not coming towards us." The Outsider reassured her.

Billie looked again and saw that he was right, the silver back of the massive best was angled parallel with their course. She let out a long breath, her heart rate slowly settling back down to normal.

"They're gorgeous creatures, aren't they?" The Outsider asked, resting his head in one hand as he watched the wale.

Billie shrugged. "I prefer gorgeous things that can't kill me."

The whale vanished below the surface. A short while later it breached, this time so far ahead that you had to squint to see it.

"Got any secrets about them to tell?" Billie asked.

The Outsider nodded and closed his eyes.

"They float through the endless stillness, seeing but not seeing, existing in shadow both here and in the void. They are the last of the old ones, the final flicker of light that…"

He trailed off, his face screwing up in concentration.

"It's gone."

He opened his eyes and sighed deeply. "I'm forgetting everything. The more I try to hold on, the faster it fades."

Billie nodded and leaned over to wrap her arm around his shoulders in a gesture she hoped was comforting.

"I think that might be for the best. Human minds aren't really meant to hold the kind of secrets yours did." She smiled at him, giving another soft squeeze before letting go. "Now you'll get to find your own meaning in it all. Just like the rest of us."

* * *

 

"Do you have the papers?"

Billie proffered an envelope with a gold seal on the back. The woman sitting across the table from her cried out and snatched it from her.

"And the copies?"

"In ashes."

The woman pressed a hand to her fur lined collar and sighed deeply. "Oh Ms Foster, I can't tell you what a burden this has lifted from my shoulders. Please, here is your payment and a bonus to show my profound appreciation."

The woman paused to snap open her purse and take out a smaller leather Satchel. She past it to Billie, who wasn't quite prepared for the weight of it. It looked small, but it was packed to the gills.

"Thank you Lady Ill'izabeth," Billie replied. "But it really was my pleasure. We all did things in our youth we aren't proud of."

The noblewoman laughed and looked down at the papers clutched in her gloved fingers. "That's kind of you to say, but after I've given this one last read, I'll burn it. It's time I stopped lingering on what might have been."

Lady Ill'izabeth leaned back in the plush red armchair, opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. Wanting to give her as much privacy as possible, Billie distracted herself with the newspaper resting on the desk in front of her. The pages were already marked over with a pen. Some were notes about developing investigations she was keeping tabs on, while others were colorful observations on the political developments of the island.

No matter where you went in the empire, there was corruption and abuse. Billie might have learned to live with it, but it was still helpful to express her thoughts. Sometimes she showed a few of the more explicit ones to Owen, seeing if she could get a rise out of him. She'd never get tired of seeing him blush.

Lady Ill'izabeth stood from her seat and walked over to the roaring fireplace between two bookcases. She took one last look at the letter and tossed it into the flames. Both women watched as the pages turned black and curled up on themselves.

"Was he handsome?" Billie asked, leaning a little further over her desk.

Lady Ill'izabeth smiled and nodded. "Yes. Stunning as a cold winters night after the first snowfall. I hope you don't mind me saying, but your husband reminds me of him in a way, especially his pale skin and soulful eyes."

Billie nodded. Though it was hard to picture anyone else looking quite as pale or as soulful as Owen. He had over 4000 years in the sunless void to practice his brooding.

Then something Lady Ill'izabeth said sunk in.

"My…. Husband?"

Lady Ill'izabeth gasped, her hand rushing to cover her mouth. "Oh, how frightfully indecorous of me. I'd forgotten we've never been formally introduced… but I saw you two taking tea at the cafe on Cheservelt lane last week."

"Uh… he's not..." Billie paused mid-sentence. Her razor-sharp mind ticking like precise clockwork. She had to remember that Lady Ill'izabeth came from a very different world than she did. The underclasses had all sorts of family configurations living in small spaces, but for people of "quality", an unwedded woman living with a man was tantamount to sleeping with The Outsider. (Poor choice of metaphor in retrospect.)

"Ah… He's not really into formalities like that. You can just come say hello next time you see us," Billie finished, already regretting the lie. Still, Lady Ill'izabeth was her only contact in Tyvian high society, and she was awfully skittish about breaches of propriety. Being blackmailed probably didn't help matters any.

"Oh, of course," Lady Ill'izabeth replied. She stopped by the door and collected her hat and umbrella from the coat stand.

"I really should be going now. Thanks for everything."

With that, the noblewoman slipped out the door. Billie listened to her high-heeled boots clicking away down the hallway and the stairs.

Billie stood up and went over to the door and took a half step outside. The large wooden door had a silver plaque on the other side that read 'Meagan B. Foster, Private Investigations.'

Seeing that there was no one in the hallway, Billie stepped back inside, pulled the blind's closed, and locked the door. She crossed the room again, tossing the purse full of coin up, then catching it.

She took the small stairway behind her desk and walked through another doorway into the foyer of the apartment above. She passed the kitchen and the bathroom then entered the living room.

Huge picture windows lined one wall, looking down on the street below. The first snowfall of the month of winds had come this morning and was still lingering in the groves between the cobblestones.

Bookshelves lined two of the other walls, while the third had the doorways to two separate bedrooms.

Billie didn't need to lean over to check if Owen was in his. He had taken to napping out on the sofa near the bookshelves and today was no exception. A weighty tomb with a decorative picture of a whale on the cover was resting on his chest. He'd been working on it for about a week, and he hadn't given up yet. Billie didn't really understand it, there couldn't really be that many interesting things to learn about massive balls of blubber and bone.

Billie ducked into her room and walked over to the painting on the wall next to her bed. It was a portrait of Daud, commissioned using a cut-out from his wanted poster for reference.

Billie dug her fingers under the frame, and the painting swung aside on soundless hinges. Behind was a safe. Billie turned the tumblers to input the code, pulled open the door, and tossed the purse full of coins inside. It landed on top of a row of three gold bars.

She closed both doors and stepped back. She has spent most of the last night skulking in the shadows in the bitter cold, and all she had wanted for hours now was a nice hot bath. She took the main hallway back into the bathroom and jerked open the hot water faucet. She dipped her hand into the rushing water, adding with cold water until she could handle the temperature.

It would take a moment to fill, so Billie went back to her bedroom. She had another desk pushed up under the windowsill. She sat down, opened her journal, and jotted down a few last notes to end her entries about the case she had just finished, including a reminder of her little white lie.

That finished, Billie stood and started undoing the buttons on the front of her jacket. She paused halfway down and glanced over Owen to make sure he was still asleep. Changing clothing in the cramped bathroom was a pain. If he was comatose anyway, she might as well take advantage.

Billie finished undoing her jacket, tossed it on her bed, and set to work unlacing the front of her stays.

Billie took a deep breath as the slight pressure on her chest fell away. She wasn't a huge fan of woman's undergarments, but she still needed something to hold everything in place. Especially with all the jumping and climbing she did.

Billie finished undressing, piling the rest on her bed and tossing her boots in the corner. She crossed to the wardrobe and pulled a long-sleeved nightdress out of the top drawer.

The soft cotton would feel amazing against her skin, but Billie preferred to put it on after she had washed the city muck from her skin. She tossed it over her shoulder and walked past the slumbering Owen to the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click.

A silent moment passed, then Owen sat up. The movement caused the book he had been reading to slide down his chest and land with a thud in his lap. Owen flinched at the sharp stab of pain from his groin, but even that wasn't enough to distract him from what he had just seen.

Owen brought both hands up to rub his eyes. What was wrong with him? This was utter madness even by his standards. He had once seen across the endless expanse of time and space, yet here he was with his heart pounding and hands shaking after seeing a woman without clothing on.

Was this why mortals seemed to utterly lose their minds around matters of partnering or copulation?

Owen shook his head and dropped his hands. No, he had anatomy textbooks. He had seen things like that before while human, and it hadn't aroused this much interest. If any other woman had passed in the nude, Owen wouldn't have batted an eye. But it hadn't been another woman, it had been Billie.

Her subtle dark skin, her muscular shoulders and powerful legs, the piercing gaze of her brown eye and the merrier shine off her forever closed black eye.

Owen picked the book out of his lap and hugged it to his chest. He needed to do more research on this.

He stood up and went over to the shelf nearest bookshelf. Billie had been spot on when she had told him that mortal minds were too small to hold the vast supply of knowledge he had once enjoyed, but books were proving to be a satisfactory alternative.

The library had come with the apartment, and judging by the dust layered on top of the volumes they had only been used for decoration before now. Nevertheless, it was a surprisingly comprehensive collection, covering everything from natural philosophy to political treatises and biography.

Owen scanned the spines and picked out anything that seemed relevant and piled them on the coffee table. Once he had a stack about a high as his hips, he settled down to read.

…And about half an hour later he was ten pages into a description of what flowers conveyed what emotions and hopelessly confused.

The door to the bathroom opened and Billie emerged in her nightgown, her dark brown hair still slick with water and clinging to her scalp.

"Hey, you're up," Billie observed. "I was just about to start dinner."

Owen closed the book he was holding and carefully slid it under the armrest pillow. Billie wasn't even looking though, she was already in the kitchen, raising her voice to be heard over the clattering of pans.

"Do you remember Lady Ill'izabeth?"

"Um…"

"She's the one who wears the stuffed meerkats on her hat."

"Oh, her," Owen replied, shriving a little when he remembered the awful frozen look on the faces of those two rodents.

"Yeah. I told her we were married. So, if you bump into her in the streets try not to say anything to make it obvious I lied to her."

"…Why?"

"Because she's my best contact with the upper classes and she'd probably have conniptions if she found out that I'm a single young woman running all over town unchaperoned."

Owen frowned. "I'm surprised you care about their favour at all."

"I wouldn't, but it's their ludicrous amount of coin that lets me offer help to anyone else who needs it."

Billie's head appeared around the corner and raised her eyebrows at him. "Look I know you haven't exactly grasped the whole lying concept, so just try to avoid her."

Owen sighed and nodded, and Billie ducked back into the kitchen. She really would never let him forget that one mix-up at the border security checkpoint.

He glanced down at the book of Tyvian marriage traditions about halfway down in his pile. "if it would really make your life easier, we could get married," he suggested.

The sound of a knife clattering to the floor followed by a vicious string of swears came from the kitchen. The sink turned on then off again, and Billie reappeared, wiping her hands on her skirt. "Just so you know, if anyone else had suggested that I would have slapped them across the face, but I know you didn't mean any harm."

Billie sighed, crossed her arms, and propped her shoulder against the wall. "Look, I can handle the politics myself. I've been doing it for decades. Lady Ill'izabeth just assumed, and I didn't see any reason to correct her."

Owen nodded. "but would make your life easier?

"Maybe? Right up until you fell in love with someone. You're human. It's going to happen at some point."

Owen considered her point. Before he would have been sceptical of the suggestion, but now he wondered if he had already fallen and just not realised it till now.

"What does love feel like?" he asked, looking up at Billie with wide innocent eyes.

"Uuuuh…" Billie floundered. This was not her department, she was an ex-assassin turned detective not a feeling-knowing- describey person. "I… I think the curry is burning," she said, beating a hasty retreat back to the kitchen.

* * *

 

There was a very good bookstore only a few blocks away from their apartment. If Owen felt the need to leave his comfortable rooms he usually went there, especially now that the birds in the park pound had flown south for the winter.

The Lady behind the counter nodded at him as he walked in. She didn't talk much, but they both enjoyed each others company anyway.

Owen started in his usual favourite section and flipped through a few richly coloured volumes with photographs of exotic birds and mammals, but soon he drifted over to the real object of his search, the section in the back labelled 'romance'.

He pulled a book out, picked a random page, and read a section.

' _He leaned down to kiss her heaving bosom. His breath was warm like the steam pouring from the spout of a kettle.'_

Owen winched, shut the book and put it back on the shelf. He'd found it, for better or worse. He took a deep breath and tried again, hoping to find one he could tolerate.

Ten books later and he was not any closer, and his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Maybe this was all a mistake. The way these books described it the act of copulation sounded rather unpleasant, especially for the woman involved, who seemed to be routinely overpowered and taken advantage of.

He could never imagine Billie taking part in this. She's slit the throat of anyone who dared put their hands on her without permission.

"She's strong-minded, isn't she?"

Owen jumped, and his heart skipped a beat. He turned and saw the bookshop owner standing behind him.

The woman was looking past him to the shelves, squinting at the spines. She reached over, took one from the shelf, and passed it to him. Then, without saying another word, she turned and went back to her desk.

Owen shivered. He'd always wondered what it was like for the mortals that he'd encountered in dreams. He couldn't help feeling like he'd just gotten a taste of his own medicine.

He opened the book and read a few pages.

* * *

 

The door of the apartment closed with a click. Owen wandered into the living room, his eyes falling to a grey package resting on the coffee table. It had a note resting on top, and he picked it up to read.

 

 

> _Owen_ ,
> 
> _I'm sorry for dodging your question last night. I'm sure you know this by now, but I'm not exactly an expert and dealing with emotions, especially face to face._
> 
> _I still don't know what to tell you, but I found an old book full of poetry that helped me years ago when I was asking myself the same questions you are._
> 
> _I hope it helps,_
> 
> _Billie_

Owen smiled. He was getting used to these notes. What Billie couldn't say, she wrote. It was probably a bit of a character flaw, but Owen found it endearing. It was like being pen pals with her secret self.

He unwrapped the book and tucked it under his arm next to the one he had just bought. He'd get to it in a moment, just as soon as he read a little more.

He settled into his favourite spot on the sofa and found where he had left off. The heroine had just climbed into the lap of her lover and stated her intent to tease him all night long.

It was so easy to picture Billie in her place. Her dark fingers tracing over his cheek, a playful smile on her lips. She would absolutely ruin him, and he knew he would enjoy every second of it.

Owen kept reading. The woman in the book slowly undressed her lover bit by bit, kissing and even biting him. It sounded painful, but part of Owen still wanted to try it. Sex seemed to be in part about letting go of the things that separated men and beasts, revealing in the part that was wild and free.

Eventually, she had her lover fully undressed and had moved off his lap so she could wrap her fingers around…

Owen glanced down at his lower body, noticing that the area around the front of his pants seemed to be sticking out a little further than usual.

Oh…

Owen thought about it for a moment, then swapped to holding the book in his left hand and reached down with his right.

Billie landed on the rooftop with a soft thud and surveyed her surroundings. She was almost home.

The morning had been productive. She has handed over some very choice evidence to the press that would sway the election of the next council member to join the Citadel of Dabokva.

The democratic system in Tyvia was far from perfect, but it made getting rid of the most corrupt politicians a lot easier and less bloody.

At last, she came to her balcony and Billie dropped soundlessly onto it. She pressed a key into the lock on the hardwood door and stepped into her bedroom.

"B-Billie…."

The sound of her name made her stop dead in her tracks. That sounded like Owen. Was he hurt?

Billie thought about rushing into the living room, but in the end, a lifetime of caution won out, and she inched closer to the doorway, leaning just enough to peek into the room.

…

Billie slowly backed towards the balcony door and slipped back outside. After checking that the side ally below was empty, she dropped down onto a pile of boxes then to the street.

Whelp…

Billie took a few more steps out onto the main thoroughfare, letting her feet walk as her mind began to race.

She didn't mind at all what he was doing. He was a grown man after all, and he had just reconnected with his humanity.

No, the part that was making her heart pound and her mind race was the fact he had been moaning  **her**  name. Add that to the fact that he'd offered to marry her, and asked what love was like…

Well, it was enough to make a woman reconsider her priorities.

"Outsider's crooked cock…" Billie breathed, wincing at herself the moment she had said it. She really had to scrub all those phrases from her vocabulary. After all, she was officially the only person the world with definitive proof that it was not crooked.

"Yoooohooo! Megan!"

Billie's train of thought was shattered by the sound of an awfully familiar voice. She looked over her shoulder to see Lady Ill'izabeth striding up the street towards her and wearing her famous hat.

"I'm so glad I ran into you dear. Here take this!"

"Uh, what-"

"It's an invitation to my winter ball for you and your husband."

Billie looked down at the embossed envelope in her hand.

"O-oh… Thanks."

"It's my pleasure. If it wasn't for you, I might not have the money to spend on this ball. The social scene gets awfully dreary in the winter months when all the nobles from Gristol get scared off by the cold, having a few fresh faces will be quite the treat."

Billie but down on her bottom lip. She knew that the noblewoman only meant well, so she didn't want to say 'I would rather gouge out my remaining eye than spend a long boring night rubbing elbows with pompous nobles' but she was struggling to find an alternative.

"I'm sorry to drop and run my dear, but I've got a pile of other invites to deliver,"

With that, Lady Ill'izabeth waved with a cupped hand and continued down the street. "Toodles!"

* * *

 

Years ago, Billie had looked out on the glimmering lights of the manor homes from her makeshift bed in the flooded district and wondered what it would be like to be attending one of those lavish parties.

Now thirty years later she had her answer; boring. Really fucking boring.

There was an ornate ballroom full of dancers swaying along to the music of a miniature Orchestra, a table piled high with food and drink from across the empire, a few quieter side areas to conduct conversations in… and that was about it.

Seeing as she didn't dance and had already had her fill of both insipid small talk and food, Billie was left to while away the rest of her night getting drunk and wishing she were home in front of a roaring fire.

Owen returned to her side and past her the glass of brandy she had asked for. Billie took the glass and tipped it up, swallowing it all in one go. Owen raised his eyebrows at her.

"We've only been here an hour…"

Billie swallowed and wiped her mouth on the back of her wrist. "Really? I was half expecting to stick my head outside and see the birds returning for the summer."

Owen snorted and took a slow sip from his cider glass.

"They seem to be having fun…" he said, gesturing towards the spinning couples on the dance floor.

"Their heads are so empty they're probably enjoying the sound of the wind whistling through their earholes."

That was a little rough even for her. Billie blamed it on the whisky. Thankfully, Owen didn't seem perturbed by her vitriol.

"I'd like to try it," Owen said.

Billie laughed until she noticed the genuine look on his face.

"Wait, really? Do You even know how to dance?"

"I know the theory, and I'm content to let you lead."

"And what makes you think that I know how to dance?"

"I've seen you in combat. Just do that without the knives or the killing."

Billie rolled her eyes. That was exactly the kind of comparison that someone who had never danced or fought would draw.

Still, she hated to deny him the chance to try something new.

Billie sighed and took his hand. "Alright, one dance. But you'd better not step on my feet."

Owen placed his glass down on the sideboard and grinned. "I'll try my best."

In the gap between songs, Billie led him out onto the dance floor and picked a relatively empty spot near the edge. Billie guided Owen's hands to her hips and wrapped her own around his neck. Her fingertips brushed through the hair on the back of his neck and Billie swore she felt a slight shudder run through him. Her dark brown eyes met his pale green ones. She stared at first, but her gaze grew softer the longer she looked at him. He really was very handsome. No wonder the Abby considered him a force of corruption with a face like that. If he caught her in the right mood, she'd probably rip her pants trying to get them off quickly.

The music began again, and Billie slipped into the rhythm. She pulled Owen along with her, swaying back and forth and turning every so slightly with each step. It was far from elegant, but Billie hardly cared what anyone else thought if Owen was enjoying it.

Owen's arms tightened, pulling her closer. Billie's chest pressed up against his, the buttons on the front of their suits clicked. Billie's eyelids dropped to half-closed. They had a moment to talk here. With the music playing and the other couples deep in conversations, they wouldn't be overheard.

"Did you read that book I gave you?" Billie asked. She was finding it hard to meet his eyes suddenly but this close there wasn't anywhere else to look.

"Of course."

"So, do you think you understand what love feels like now?"

Billie cringed a little as soon as the question came out of her mouth. What kind of thing was that to ask someone? But she didn't know how else to approach it.

Owen's cheeks coloured, and he nodded. "Y-yes. I think so..."

Billie swallowed and said, "And do you feel like you've felt it for someone…?"

Before Owen could answer, her expression darkened, her lips curling up with disgust at her own words. "Ugh, why am I beating around the bush? To the void with it!"

Billie pulled down with her arms, lifted herself up and pressed her lips against Owen's.

She half expected him to pull away or drop her, but his arms tightened around her hips, and he pressed back against her. Billie's feet stilled, and she moved her hand up, tangling the fingers of her gloved hand in his hair.

"Now presenting her royal majesty, empress of our fair isles, Emily Kaldwin, accompanied by the royal protector Corvo Attano!"

Billie pulled back from the kiss and turned her head towards the grand staircase that lead down from the entrance hall. Sure enough, the empress was walking down the steps, flanked by an older man with greying hair and an unreadable expression.

"Shit…" Billie hissed under her breath. She hadn't the slightest clue what the empress was doing in Tyvia at some minor noble's winter ball, but she knew better than to believe in coincidences.

She used the hand buried in Owen's hair to pull his face down the crock of her neck. She's never known for sure, but Billie had strong suspicions that the empress and her royal protector were two of the few people in the world who would recognise her companion for what he used to be.

To make matters worse, she and Emily hadn't parted on the most amicable terms. The empress had given her a bit of reprieve, saying that she had changed from the woman who helped Daud kill an empress, but she had still been disgusted enough to want to go the rest of the journey on her own.

All and all, Billie would rather avoid Emily all-together.

"Keep your head down..." Billie murmured.

Owen hummed a reply and pressed his lips against Billie's neck. Billie slowly started pulling him away from the dance floor, trying to make it look like she was just escorting her drunk husband.

Emily was making swift progress cutting through the crowd of sycophants. Clearly, she was not here for a social call. Billie didn't think she had been seen yet. If she could just get them out of the room before-

A soft prickle of pain made Billie gasp. She stopped dead in her tracks, another full moment passing before she realised that she had just felt Owen's teeth on her neck.

"Did you just-" Billie hissed, her question drowned out as a commanding voice said, "Megan Foster, how lovely to see you again."

Billie looked up and met Emily's eyes. The sarcasm in the empress's tone was hardly noticeable, but Billie has spent more than enough time with her to detect it.

"Your majesty," Billie replied, bending her knees in an awful imitation of a curtesy. The movement disturbed Owen, and he finally raised his head from Billie's shoulder.

"Oh, hello Emily." He said.

Billie wished dearly that she had a camera on her because the look on the empress's face was priceless.

Her eyes widened to the size of pealed figs, and her mouth dropped open. She glanced around wildly, her shock only mounting when she realised nothing had changed.

Corvo came over, no doubt noticing the sudden distress in his daughter/empress. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Emily pursed her lips, looked at her father, then gently tilted her head towards Owen.

"Can you see him?" She whispered.

Corvo looked over and proceeded to have exactly the same reaction Emily did.

Billie sighed loudly, and Owen snickered.

"Stop both of you. We aren't in the void, and neither of you are dreaming," Billie hiss-whispered

"If we can find someplace to talk. I promise that there's a perfectly re-"

Billie cut herself off. Realizing there was no way she could keep that promise. "Well, there's  **an**  explanation…"

As if she has been summoned by Billie's suggestion, Lady Ill'izabeth appeared at Emily's elbow.

"Your majesty I-"

"You're the host of this party?" Emily asked, turning to her.

"Why yes, I-"

"I'd like someplace private to talk with my old friend."

Lady Ill'izabeth looked over at Billie, her brows gathering in confusion.

"Megan?"

"Yes, Megan Foster and..." Emily glanced over at Billie for help.

"My husband."

"Her husband…?"

Lady Ill'izabeth nodded slowly, looking as if she had just been told her pet wolfhound has sprouted wings and flown away.

"Ah, right this way-"

* * *

 

"Okay. Once more so we're all on the same page," Emily said, taking a moment to look at each of the three others individually before continuing.

"Billie investigated an ancient secret society, found the eye of a dead god, walked through the void to its centre, and released  **The Outsider himself**  from 4000 years of imprisonment. "

"To be fair, I didn't go in intending to save him. That just sort of happened," Billie added.

Owen, who was currently sprawled out over a desk like it was a chaise lounge, said, "I think once she saw my adorable face up close, she just couldn't bear the thought of stabbing me to death."

Billie gave him the back of her middle and ring finger, which only made him snigger more.

"Ugh… I'm too old for this… for alllllllll of this," Corvo complained, shooting a glare at Owen. "Couldn't you have waited until after I was dead?"

"Sorry old friend," Owen replied with a sweep of his hands. "Daud wasn't long for this world, and he needed one final job to wrap up a life of conflicting choices."

"Daud was involved in this?" Emily cut in, her amber eyes narrowing.

"He's dead," Billie replied, "What's going on here has nothing to do with him."

Owen dropped down of his desk and slipped in-between Billie and the Empress. "Corvo, Emily, may I see your hands?" He asked.

Father and daughter looked at each other. Corvo nodded, and Emily moved to pull off her left glove, while Corvo unwrapped black strip of cloth from his hand and wrist.

Owen took their hands in both of his. The back of their palms had near-identical black smudges across them. Almost like they had mishandled some ink.

If Billie squinted, she could almost make out what used to be there, but that was probably only because she knew what to look for.

"So, you two were marked," Billie said.

"The last, as fate would have it," Owen added. "What about your powers?"

"They work," Corvo replied simply.

"Fascinating… It seems that once things have been set in motion, it doesn't matter what happens to the being who gave the initial push."

Emily took a deep breath. "What does this mean? For the empire, for the void, for everyone?"

Owen sighed deeply and released both hands. "I don't know…"

Emily took a step back, staring at him with eyes almost as wide as when she had first seen him. "You don't?"

Owen shook his head. "Much has been lost to me since becoming human, but even at the height of my power, I couldn't predict what might or might not happen after I was gone."

He folded his hands behind his back and started to pace back and forth as he mused.

"The eyeless believe that without a god to temper it, the void will continue to grow until it consumes the whole world." He stopped by the desk and leaned on it again. "But the eyeless also thought turning themselves into unfeeling stone was a capital idea, and that I was somehow grateful that they tired me to a stone slab and slit my throat."

Emily nodded. She turned and located an armchair before settling herself into it and folding both her hands in her lap. After a moment of silence, she looked up and said, "Alright, Billie… Owen. You're coming back to Dunwall with us.

"What!" Billie hissed.

"I can't have the two of you hiding out in some obscure corner of my empire!" Emily snapped back. "We've all seen what happens when I turn a blind eye to powerful sorcery."

"You don't honestly think-"

"I don't. But I can't let opinion superseded my role of protecting the people of the empire. "

Billie grit her teeth together. "So, we're under arrest, then?"

"No, you're not. Out of respect for services rendered, I'm asking that you accompany us back to Dunwall."

"And if I refuse?"

Emily sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "I haven't decided. But I'm hoping that you won't."

Billie growled like a caged tiger and clenched the fingers of her right hand. She could feel the magic there, the double-bladed weapon that was now part of her soul was ready to form at a second's notice.

"I can't believe this. I thought you'd changed! But now here you are, barking out orders like the spoiled little brat you always were."

Corvo stepped closer to Emily, his sharp eyes watching Billie. She wasn't all that bothered though. If he honestly thought she would hurt the empress, she would already be on her back.

"You have no idea what I went through building a life for us here! How many long nights I had to spend trying not to fall of snowy rooftops building my reputation. But you still want me to give it all up in a heartbeat just because you say so!"

Emily stayed silent through the entirety of Billie's rant, waiting till She had finished before replying.

"I understand why you're upset, but I can promise you that your needs will be-"

"Typical empress. I don't care if you offer me a suite on top of Dunwall tower itself. That's not the point!"

Billie turned and gestured to the pale skinned man sitting on the desk behind her.

"and what about him? All he wanted is to have the normal life those bastard cultists took from him, and now you want to take away his freedom again just because of who he used to be. He's flesh and bone, and no more dangerous than any other man."

Corvo cleared his throat loudly. "Perhaps we should allow The Outsider to speak for himself."

Owen clicked his tongue and pouted at the royal protector.

"Corvo! I was enjoying that."

"I could tell…" Corvo replied with a roll of his eyes.

Owen pulled himself up further on the desk, crossed his legs, and rested his head in one hand. "Billie, you know that I care for you very deeply, but I have to agree with Emily."

Billie pursed her lips, part of her wanted to be angry, but another part was still dwelling on that first part. Did he just say that he cared for her?

"-I can safely say that between the three gathered here, there is more magic than the rest of the empire combined." Owen continued. "Whatever the consequences of my departure from the void, we stand a greater chance of facing them together."

He turned to Billie and gave her a knowing smile. "Besides, didn't you say one of the advantages to starting a detective agency was that you could pack up and move if we were ever discovered?"

"I did but-"

"Well, now you won't have to live with that fear hanging over your head. I'm sure in return for your cooperation, the empress will gladly grant you a pardon. Right, Emily?"

Emily frowned. She didn't exactly love being told what she was going to do, especially by him, but she wasn't going to look a gift rat in the mouth.

"Yes, I will."

Owen smiled wider and rocked forwards on his hips, showing all his perfectly white teeth to Billie. "There's plenty of corruption in Dunwall. I think it needs a woman like you to sort it all out."

Billie had no idea what that meant, but the way he was looking at her right now…

"Fine…" Billie conceded. She could easily win an argument against Emily, but if Owen was also against her, then she was utterly doomed.

"-but first, I have a question for our flawless empress."

Emily visibly bristled at the sarcasm but nodded to show she was listening.

"How did you find us?"

"Delilah left the tower full of charms and trinkets, and I kept a few. One of them was a crystal that tracks magic energy. Shortly after this happened-" Emily lifted her hand to show the ruined mark. "Tyvia lit up like a bloodfly nest on fire. I didn't expect to find you at the centre of it though, especially at a noble's party."

Billie shrugged, "Lady Ill'izabeth is a good woman… once you get past her hat."

"That was a hat?" Corvo muttered.


	2. Same Dance Different Song

The ISS Jessamine was quite the impressive ship, despite its small size.

It was the fastest in the empire, using a blend of wind power and wale oil turbines to do the work that neither could match alone. Billie had talked to the captain, and he swore that she could make the trip from Dabokva to Dunwall in three days flat.

For this voyage though, the ship was holding back to keep pace with its naval escort and a few crown corporation trading ships.

Altogether, there were thirty ships in the fleet with a combined crew of just under a thousand sailors.

The overwhelming grandeur of it all made Billie rather uncomfortable, enough that she almost regretted all the jibes she had made at Emily's expense when they'd travelled together on the dreadful whale.

Almost...

Billie was about to ask to be moved from the lavish guest cabins to the crew's quarters just so she could get a proper night's sleep, (her body just wasn't made for feather beds) when she found a far better solution; bunking with Owen.

"Where did you get the rope?"

Billie shrugged. "It's a ship. There's rope."

Owen raised his eyebrows at her. "It's made of silk…"

Billie nodded and bit down on her bottom lip. "Sailors can like silk rope…"

She finished tying the knots around Owen's left wrist and leaned back to study her handy-work. Owen cautiously tested the bindings, and by extension, the sturdiness of the wrought-iron headboard.

"Sailors plural, or one sailor in particular...?" Owen muttered.

"Captain actually. It was my ship."

Billie lifted herself up, sliding off Owen's hips. She turned her back to him and walked over to the full-length merroir resting in an alcove between the dresser and the porthole windows.

"You know, the last time I was tied up like this I had my throat cut open…" Owen observed dryly.

Billie slipped her fingers under the hem of her black elbow-length gloves and slowly pulled them off, one after another. "Do you want me to untie you?"

"…No."

"Then hush. Unless you want a demonstration on how to make a rope gag."

Billie took off her eyepatch and placed it on the dresser next to her gloves. She flexed her right arm, feeling the muscles moving even though there was nothing but bone and air. She went back over and sat down on the bed.

"Why did you take my arm?" She asked.

Billie had brought this topic up many times before, but she had never gotten anything useful out of it.

"I didn't. You lost it and your eye in a fight outside of Stilton's manor. You were trying to contact him and were set upon by a patrol of the grand guard. You barely survived, even I was surprised you pulled through."

Billie slowly began undoing the buttons on her shirt with one hand, sliding them out with precise movements of her fingers. "And when did that happen?"

Owen was watching her very closely. He used his bound wrists to pull himself up and get a better look at the lace undergarments underneath her jacket.

"1849, day 17 of the month of rain. Three years before you carried a deposed Empress across the ocean and helped her reclaim her throne."

Billie tossed her jacket across the room, it landed in an armchair near the bedroom door. "Then why did I still have it when I rescued Daud?"

Owen's breath hitched as Billie returned to the bed, undid her pants, and pulled them off one leg at a time.

"Perhaps you should ask Emily that question. She's the one who made that choice."

"So, you're telling me that, years before I ever knew her, Empress Emily saved me from a pack of guards and I don't even remember it?" Billie asked, with a disbelieving scoff.

She loosened the fastenings around the front of her stays and pulled the entire thing off over her shoulders.

Owen was flushing fiercely, though you would have never guessed it from just his tone.

"Something like that…"

"Alright, let's assume that's true for a moment. It used to look normal until you did this."

Billie held up her right arm, then reached out to cup his cheek in her tar-black fingers. Owen turned his head, nuzzling into the palm of her hand.

"It was hurting you, having parts of your body torn between different points in space and time."

"The nightmares?"

Owen's eyes narrowed, and his lips tightened. "They were more than nightmares."

"And you fixed it by giving me this?"

"I merged the two paths."

Billie sighed and took her hand back. "You know, two can play this little game of yours."

Owen tilted his head to the side, his eyes were wide and innocent, but his lips were curling up at the corners. "What game?"

Billie traced her fingers down his chest. He was naked from the hips up, his pale skin marked around the shoulders and neck where she had sunk her teeth in, then soothed it with lips and tongue. Billie had some of her own, though they didn't show up half as clearly on her skin.

She moved her hands to the front of his pants and tore them open. Owen flinched, but apart from that, he didn't seem to care what she did to his clothes.

Good, Billie liked that in a partner.

"Here's the rules. You're going to do whatever I tell you, or I'm going to leave you like this," Billie purred. She pressed a hand against his lower tummy and slid it down into the front of his pants, making it clear what she meant by 'like this'.

Owen moaned and asked, "Is this how you treat all your lovers?"

"No. I change it up depending on who I'm dealing with. You just strike me as someone who's very, **very** , tired of getting his way all the time."

Owen laughed. "Well, that's one way to put it."

He rocked his hips up into her hand, and Billie pulled it back. Owen whined softly, but the look in Billie's eyes didn't have an ounce of sympathy.

"Then what are your orders? I can't do much like this..." he asked.

Billie pulled the waist of his trousers down, freeing his length. He was already hard for her, but then she had felt that.

"It's simple really. All you have to do is not cum until I say you can."

"…Wait… isn't that an irrepressible reaction? How…?

"Guess you'll have to figure it out."

With that Billie straddled his hips, positioning his cock with two fingers before dropping herself down onto it.

Billie let out a long breath that mingled with a moan from the man between her thighs. She lowered herself down onto his chest like a cat that had picked out a warm bit of carpet, threaded her arms under his tied ones, and braced herself against the mattress.

Owen took the opportunity to kiss her. His technique was improving rapidly, especially when it came to his tongue. As far as Billie was concerned, it was by far the best use he ever made of it.

"Ready?" She asked, pulling back her lips in a predatory grin.

Owen nodded. He still had no idea if he was going to be able to hold back for her, but he was sure as the void going to try.

Billie grounded her hips, finding her centre of gravity before starting to move her up and back in rhythm. She straightened up, rolling her shoulders back and opening her chest.

Though she felt an attraction to both genders, Billie had only been with a small handful of men in her life and only one of them she hadn't regretted afterwards.

-But the way Owen was looking up at her… as if she were the one who used to be a god. That was a new experience.

She adjusted her pace, going for depth over speed. The tension in the ropes around Owen's wrists increased, and Billie followed his gaze to her chest.

"You're Beautiful," he whispered.

Billie snorted. "You should mind where you're looking when you say that."

Owen's, attention snapped back to her her face. "I meant all of you!"

"Sure, you did."

Billie moved her right hand to the spot right above where their bodies were connected, coating her pointer finger in slick and gliding it back and forth across the folds hiding her clit.

She remembered how strange it had felt touching herself for the first time with her 'merged' arm. At the time, she had wondered if the outsider could use it to play a dirty trick on her.

But that was before she knew that he was so inexperienced that he probably wouldn't have had the slightest clue what to do with her parts if he got his hands on them.

Still, that wasn't anything that a long boring week on the Empress's flagship couldn't fix.

For tonight though, she was more than happy just to watch him squirm.

Billie let her eyes fall closed. She moaned, surrendering herself to the coiling heat in her hips, focusing on the feeling of Owen inside her and the soft, needy noises he was making as she rode him.

Billie shuddered, the tremor starting in her legs and flowing up through her body. She moaned his name. She hadn't really intended to, but in the heat of the moment, it slipped out. She didn't really have time to think about that though, not while she was riding out her orgasm and remembering how to breathe.

Billie folded back down onto Owen's chest panting heavily.

"Huh... you did it." she murmured, reaching up to brush his hair away from his eyes. He opened his mouth, but she shushed him with a finger to his lips. She shifted her weight, he slipped out of her easily, and she reseated herself next to his hip.

Billie wrapped her fingers around his cock, he was coated in her, so her digits slid easily. She leaned down and kissed his neck, tightening her hand to feel him squirm against her.

"You can cum now…" she purred.

He moaned her name as he finished. Through Billie had to wonder if he thought that's just what you did in that moment.

It still felt good to hear it.

* * *

 

The clash of steel on steel rung around the training field. Billie fainted and dove, wielding her blade so fast it was hardly more than a silver flicker in the air. But for every move she made, Corvo had an answer.

His defence was rock solid, yet Billie was still holding tight to the offensive.

"There's a lot of Daud in your style," Corvo observed.

Billie took a half step back, gaining distance. "Yeah? Well, I could say the same about you and Emily."

Corvo tensed his arm, watching hers. "You've sparred with Emily?"

Billie flattened her blade, drawing the eye while she lashed out with a left fist. Corvo dodged and her hand sailed through the open air. Corvo counter-attacked with his blade, but Billie twisted, and then they were back at arm's length again, neither better for the efforts.

"What did you think we did on my boat to pass the time? Style our hair and gossip about cute guys?"

Corvo snorted. Billie saw her opening and lunged. She got within a hairs-breath of landing a blow on him, but in the rush of presumed victory she over-balanced and left herself open to a kick to the stomach.

Billie landed in the dirt with a resounding cry of, "Fuck!"

Corvo shook his head and twirled his sword in his fingers, folding it back into its handle.

Billie pulled herself back up, still panting heavily. "One more!"

Corvo raised an eyebrow at her. "We've already had five."

"So? Getting tired old man?" Billie shot back, apparently not realising that she was the one who was out of breath.

"Didn't Sokolov once say that the definition of insanity is performing the same actions over and over and expecting different results?"

Billie swallowed. Emily must have told her father that she and Sokolov had been close. "Fine then. Another round, but this time-"

Billie dropped her sword and flexed the fingers of her right hand, black shards sprung from her fingertips, gathering tighter until they formed into the Double-bladed dagger that had turned a pale street urchin into a black-eyed god.

"-no holding back."

Corvo's expression stayed neutral, but Billie could see the spark of interest in his eyes. Maybe if she just pushed one more button.

"I can promise that my magic is nothing like Daud's."

* * *

 

"So, this is Delilah's old studio?"

Emily pushed the door to the old chapel open a little wider until the mechanism in the hinges clicked, and it stayed open on its own.

"Yeah, I tried having the tree removed, but the roots go all the way down into the foundation. We could lose this whole wing of the tower if it died."

Owen looked up at the twisting vines reaching towards the ceiling. The roof had a large skylight, and the resulting sunlight had encouraged the tree to bloom with rich green leaves and clumps of tiny white flowers.

Three large tables with white countertops were arranged underneath it, along with shelves of scientific equipment, paint brushes, tools, machinery, and even a typewriter.

"I gave it a bit of a makeover, got rid of the human remains and anything that looked too sketchy… and now I come here to tinker sometimes," Emily explained.

Owen turned to her and gave her a concerned frown.

"Imagine, the Empress herself toying with the occult. It's as if Dunwall traded one witch Empress for another."

Emily blinked at him.

"You disapprove?" She asked slowly.

Owen smirked. "Of course not. I'm just reminding you that magic is a double-bladed dagger. When you look at the void, the void looks back."

Emily frowned and went over to one of the tables. A rune carved from whalebone rested there, still bearing the mark that had been scrubbed from her hand. The bone was cold and lifeless, no longer humming with the magic of the void.

"Delilah did awful things with her power... but if I could find some way to mimic a few of her tricks I could do a lot of good." Emily looked up at the tree and reached up to touch the bark. "Just think of all the people we could feed if I could make plants grow like this."

Emily turned to Owen, her smile fading when she saw his expression. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Owen shook his head and came over to the table next to her. He picked up the rune, examining the ancient letters that had made up his original name. "Magic isn't like other skills. You can't learn the techniques of the masters, replicate them, and expect similar results. Not unless you bond with a host and channel your magic through them. Even though you all have similar skill sets, you can't teleport, Corvo can't use reach, and neither of you can displace like Billie can. Similar results, different execution."

Owen put the rune back down. It was old magic now. It would be interesting to see what would replace them. "There was only one Delilah, and now that's she's beyond our reach, her magic is gone forever."

"Oh…" Emily said. She walked over to an armchair set just after the dip in the floor and dropped into it.

Owen hopped up onto the desk, his legs kicking in the air like a five-year-old at a dinner party. "Cheer up, Empress. There may have only been one Delilah, but there's also only one Emily Kaldwin. You have all the advantages Delilah had, perhaps even more, now that there's no longer a meddling outsider keeping an eye on everything."

Emily smiled and leaned back in her chair, propping up her head on one hand.

"So, you really are completely human now?"

Owen nodded. "If I had a little more muscle and an inferiority complex, I could probably sign up to be an overseer."

Emily snickered. "Maybe you should consider it. They might actually protect people from dark magic if they had someone who understood it advising them."

Emily wrapped her other arm tighter around her middle, her fingers tangling into the fabric of her jacket.

"If you used that knowledge, could you gain some of your power back?" She asked.

Owen shrugged. "Perhaps, but I'm not sure I want to. I was one with the maelstrom for so long, and there's a lot left for me to explore right here…" Owen thought back to a few nights ago, when Billie had put her long black gloves on and taught him that she wasn't the only one who could enjoy the benefits of a few practised fingers in the right places.

"You're a good Empress, Emily. Take it from someone who's watched more rulers rise and fall than could ever be counted.

Emily closed her eyes and nodded. "Thanks, Out… Owen."

They sat in silence for a moment. Owen took another look around the room, studying the eclectic mix of objects Emily had gathered.

"Is that the crystal you used to find us?" Owen asked. Pointing to a small clear stone carved into a prism and bound with raven feathers and silver.

"Oh, yeah. Would you like me to show you how it works?"

Emily stood, went over to one of the shelves, and pulled out a large rolled piece of paper. She brought it up to her desk and laid it out on the table. It was a map of the four islands of the empire with all the major settlements labelled.

Emily picked up the crystal and closed her fingers around it.

" _Guide my path and my dreams, find the things that can't be seen. Let this crystal be the key,_ _reveal the hidden world to me."_

Emily held her hand over the map and dropped the crystal. Right before it hit the table, gravity seemed to shift, and it bounced back up like a buoyant object reversing in water. It wobbled in thin air, then settled. A blue spark ignited inside the stone and it started to glow.

Emily placed both her hands on the table and closed her eyes. The floating crystal began to move across the map. It started in the sea between Morley and Gristol and ended with it's pointed bottom above Dunwall.

Emily went to fetch another map, this time of the city, and placed it over the first.

The crystal moved again until it was right above Dunwall tower and the faint blue glow grew brighter.

"This happens a lot…" Emily said. "Because of Corvo and I, I have to concentrate to get it to point out any other locations."

"And with Billie here that will make things even harder," Owen added. "You might want to consider changing the words of the incantation, if-"

The crystal on the table flashed and began to shudder. The glow becoming so bright that it was impossible to look directly at it.

Emily covered her eyes with her hand. "What-"

Before she could finish the thought, a resounding crash echoed from somewhere outside the tower. Emily ran to the window, threw it open and stuck her head out to look down onto the training field.

"Outsider's Lilly-white ass!" she swore.

She pulled herself back inside and caught sight of Owen.

"Uhh… no offence?"

He laughed and shook his head. "None taken, though I've never heard that one. Is it new?"

"Probably? I think I just invented it.

"Oh... I'm reconsidering taking offence now."

* * *

 

By the time the two of them had made it down the elevator and out into the training field the battle was long over.

Corvo hand one hand pressed against his lower back, his lips pursed tightly to hold back his pained expression, while Billie was flailing her left arm wildly, trying to dislodge a white rat that had burrowed its sharp teeth into her sleeve.

"Why?" Emily asked, gesturing out at the wreck around them. Metal barriers stood on their sides or were completely knocked over, and some wooden storage crates that had been stacked up to make a ramp lay in splitters.

"Billie feels that she has something to prove," Owen said, coming up to stand beside the Empress. "Corvo defeated her old master in combat, and she thinks that if she can beat him in return, she'll be settling some sort of score."

Everyone turned to look at him, including the rat clinging to Billie's arm.

"What?"

Billie grabbed the rat around the middle and hurled it away into a bush.

"Is that one of those things we don't say out loud even though it's painfully obvious?" Owen asked.

Billie strode over to him and grabbed a handful of his collar.

"Come on, fish-for-brains," she muttered, dragging him along behind her.


	3. It's a Long Way Forward, So Trust in Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to anyone who didn’t expect that this is where this story was going. 
> 
> In my defence, I didn’t know either. I'm very much making this all up as I go along.

Owen tucked the base of the violin under his chin, mindful of how he was holding the neck. He brought the bow up and dragged it over the open strings, testing the notes to make sure the instrument wasn't in dire need of a tune.

Once he was satisfied with the sound, he lowered the bow and began gently tapping his fingers against the neck, practising the timing. Now that he had the rhythm together, he brought the bow to the strings again and began to play.

The sound echoed around the music room. The acoustics fine-tuned to give the best showing for young emperors and empresses while they suffered through their music lessons.

Outside the windows, the city of Dunwall slept, pinpricks of light shining from the windows of houses where they could afford electricity or candles.

Owen took a deep breath, filling his chest with air. Then he began to sing.

_Don't wake me,_  
_Don't wake me up,_  
_Sleep, just let me sleep._  
_For my dreams are as dark as the sea is deep, and the world behind my eyes calls to me._  
_Please don't wake me up,_  
_Don't wake me up,_  
_No, not again,_  
_I feel the ground beneath me heaving, and soon there will be grieving._  
_The world could stop turning,_  
_Won't you stop the fires burning?_  
_Please send me back to sleep,_  
_Back to sleep._

Owen moved into the bridge, focusing on his finger placement. Before he could launch into the second verse, though, another instrument joined the sound of his violin.

Owen pulled his bowstring back and turned to see a woman with long blond hair and bright blue eyes sitting at the piano.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. You just looked a little lonely, so I wanted to join in." She stood and walked around the piano, offering a lace-gloved hand for him to shake. "I don't think we've ever been introduced, I'm-"

"Wyman Barrell, heir to the South Seas Trading Company," Owen interrupted. He glanced at the offered hand, but didn't take it.

Wyman cleared her throat, covering her failed gesture by moving her hand up to cover her mouth. "Ah, well. I guess Emily told you about me."

Wyman fiddled with her braided hair, twisting the frayed end in her fingers. When it became clear that Owen wasn't going to introduce himself, she asked, "and you are?"

"Owen."

"Owen…?"

"Owen Foster. Until someone says otherwise."

Wyman hummed and twisted her hair up further with her hands. "Well, uh… nice to meet you."

The door to the music room opened, and an out-of-breath Emily strode into the room

"There you are! Why did you run off like that?"

"I heard someone playing…" Wyman explained, stepping away from the piano and drifting over to her lover. She leaned into Emily and stage-whispered.

"Is that  **HIM,**  Em?"

Emily gave Owen an apologetic look and replied. "Yes, Wy."

"He doesn't look that scary…"

"When did I ever say he looked scary?"

"I don't know. The void sounded plenty scary, and he's like… The scariest thing in the scary thing."

Emily sighed. "This is why I can't take you anywhere, come on."

She took Wyman by the hand and attempted to pull her out of the room.

"Wait, I wanted us to play together!" Wyman protested.

"Why?"

"Because Owen is alone and look how sad he is!"

Emily looked over at Owen who seemed at best baffled and at worse bemused by this entire series of events.

Wyman slipped out of Emily's hold and went back over to the piano. She sat down, straightened her back, and began to play and sing along.

"Ohh~! What will we do with the drunken whaler?"

Emily winced. "Wyman, no."

Wyman ignored her girlfriend and started singing louder.

"WHAT WILL WE DO WITH THE DRUNKEN WHALER!"

"STOP!"

" **WHAT WILL WE DO WITH THE DRUNKEN WHALER, EARLY IN THE-"**

Emily screamed. "Fine! Just one song!"

Wyman laughed and gestured wildly to a golden harp sitting beside the piano.

"Yes! Take your seat, my love!"

Emily sighed and sat down on the stool beside the large stringed instrument. She glanced over at Owen and mouthed, "I'm so sorry."

Owen shrugged, raising his violin back to his shoulder.

"Alright everyone, from the top!"

* * *

 

"So… Who's responsible for catching him when he falls?" Billie asked.

Corvo looked from Owen to the small gap between the rooftops. "Do we need to decide that?"

"If we don't then we might end up getting in one another's way."

Corvo nodded. "My teleport is faster."

"Yeah, but I've got a pretty quick trigger finger."

Corvo snorted but didn't furnish her with a further reply. Billie narrowed her eyes at Corvo and relented. "Fine, you can catch him then."

Owen landed on their rooftop with a thud. His toes made it across just fine but not his heals. He started to slide back, his arms flailing. Corvo stepped forward and grabbed him by the front of his Jacket and pulled him to safety.

Owen yelped and dug his fingers into Corvo's sleeve. Corvo pulled him further onto the roof, then gently prised the slightly shaken young man off.

"Before you jump, make sure you're looking past the edge, not at it, because that's where you're going to land," Corvo explained.

Owen pouted and snapped back, "this is hardly fair! Both of you have recourse if you fall."

Billie rolled her eyes at him. "First of all, Corvo's promised to catch you, and second, I learned how to do this when I was half your size  **and**  without magic."

Owen crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, why couldn't we walk down the street like normal people?"

"We did offer that," Corvo reminded him.

"I think your exact words were, 'this will be more exciting'." Billie chipped in.

"Oh, right…"

Owen pouted at the pair of them. He was really starting to realise that his taste in companions might not be good for his long-term health.

"Why don't you go on ahead?" Corvo offered, turning to Billie. "It'll go faster if only one of us is babysitting him."

Billie bit down on her bottom lip. He was her boyfriend… kinda. But she was also getting hungry and wanted to get to tea. She glanced at Owen, and he looked back at her with wide green puppy-eyes and a slight wobble of his lips.

"Sure," she decided. "Just don't let him break more than three or four bones."

With that, she turned and sprinted along the top row of roof tiles. Billie caught the edge with the tip of her boot and launched herself forward, landing halfway along the next roof and carrying her momentum.

Two blocks along she caught sight of the National Arts Centre. The huge concrete building loomed three stories over the houses around it, but that would hardly be a problem. Billie spotted a large black pipe clinging to the side of the building and altered her course.

A large domed skylight took up most of the space on the arts centre rooftop, but the bits around it had been made into a lovely little garden. Billie slipped through the flower beds and over to the north side of the building, which looked out over the grand canal. Five stories below, boats passed in the pitch-black water, carrying supplies in and garbage out, the bloodstream of the complex organism that was the city of Dunwall.

A glass-topped table was set up near the rooftop railing, piled high with three-tier towers of baked goods and sweets. Wyman was the first to notice Billie and waved her over.

Billie dropped into the seat across from the pair. Emily was in the middle of pouring a cup of tea and didn't turn her head until she had filled it to the brim, not losing a single drop.

Emily placed the pot back down and asked. "Where's Owen and father?"

Billie shrugged her shoulders, reached over to grab a profiterole from the nearest tower, and took a bite. "Delayed."

Emily nodded and gestured to the teapots. "Do you want Gristol breakfast or Chai?"

Billie considered for a moment. She had no idea what either of those tasted like. "Got anything stronger?"

Emily frowned, but Wyman started reaching for her handbag. She pulled out a brown glass bottle. "Orbon rum?" she offered, giving it a little shake.

"Wy, we're having afternoon tea," Emily protested.

"You don't have rum at tea?" Wyman asked, batting her eyelashes at the Empress while she passed the bottle to Billie. Billie used her butter knife to peel off the wax seal and pop the cork.

A loud thud came from the other side of the roof. A moment later, Corvo emerged from the garden carrying a shivering ball of pale skin and black fabric on his back.

"What happened?" Emily asked once Corvo got close enough.

The Royal Protector shrugged, making Owen cling tighter to his shoulders. "I think he's scared of heights." Corvo let his arms drop, but Owen didn't loosen his grip around Corvo's shoulders.

Billie stood up and went over to him. "Here, let me help."

Wyman tilted her head to the side and asked, "wait, he's scared of  _heights?_  Doesn't the void, like, not have a floor?"

Billie slipped her arms around Owen's middle and nuzzled into the back of his neck. He whimpered, and his grasp loosened just enough that she was able to peal him off. Billie got her arm under his legs and carried him bridal style back to her seat.

Corvo stretched his arms out and sat down beside Emily. She gestured to the tea, and Corvo frowned. Emily sighed and reached for the coffee pot, pouring her father a full cup without sugar or milk.

Billie shifted Owen in her lap and ran her fingers over his cheek. He looked pale, though determining if it was more than usual would require some comparative samples.

"Here, have some of this and stop shaking," she said, grabbing the bottle of rum from the table and pressing it to his lips.

Owen took a sip and his whole body shuddered. "Ugh! That's awful."

Billie raised an eyebrow at him and tried a sip. "Tastes fine to me..."

Wyman held her hand up and Billie passed her the bottle. "Owen, have you tried alcohol before?" she asked.

"is that what that is?! People actually drink this stuff?"

"You get used to it," Corvo said.

"Why would you want to?!"

Emily passed over a plate of tiny cakes. Owen took one, chasing the awful taste out of his mouth with freshly-baked cinnamon apple. "Much better. Thank you, Empress."

Emily nodded and took one last mournful look at her nearly untouched teapots.

"Gristol breakfast or Chai?"

"Chai, of course," Owen replied.

* * *

 

On the way back, Billie volunteered for Owen babysitting duty while Corvo went on ahead with Emily and Wyman.

Billie watched him carefully, partially because she would be a little upset if he died on her, but also because something seemed… wrong.

There used to be a saying among the Whalers that 'Lurk could smell a rat hiding under ten feet of garbage'. A bit of a mixed metaphor, but it was still true.

Billie's sense for deception was almost uncanny. To the point that it was almost more trouble than it was worth. Many moments in her life might have gone smoother if she'd been able to believe a convenient lie. Especially when it came to her relationships.

Owen walked along the rooftop ahead of her. He was getting better, but only enough to not be in mortal danger. He was going to be sore later though, with bruises all over his hands and knees. Knowing Owen, he would hound her to kiss them better all night.

The next rooftop was a little higher, so Billie went on ahead and pulled Owen up after her. His boots scraped against the brickwork until he found a small crack and used his legs to push himself the rest of the way up.

Billie pulled him into her arms and leaned in for a kiss. The early evening breeze swept around them, but didn't disturb the warmth of their bodies pressed close together.

"Wait…" Billie murmured as she pulled back. "What happened to your fear of heights?"

Owen blinked back at her with the confused look of a rat caught in the spotlight of a watchtower.

"Uh…" he floundered. "...The rum must have done the trick?"

"You only had a mouthful."

Owen bit down on his bottom lip. His cheeks starting to colour.

Billie thought back to their journey to the arts center. Replaying the moments when Owen had screamed and started clinging to…

"Oh… Ohhhh!" Billie said out loud, snapping her fingers as the pieces fell together. "Owen?" She asked sweetly, smiling in a way that showed off all her teeth.

"Uh… Yes?" He asked eyeing her up and down warily.

"You know that I'm not a jealous person, right? That I don't mind sharing?"

Owen nodded slowly. "I know you've been with different people at the same time… is that what you mean?"

"Mhmm, and If you want something… or I guess in this case, someone... I don't mind helping with that."

"I… I really have no idea what you're talking about."

Billie took a step back from him. She vividly remembered that interesting night when she had pressed her fingers inside him. At the time she'd thought she would need to find someone in the underground market who would sell her the things she needed to give him the full experience, but what if? What if, indeed…

"The more I think about this, the more I like it," Billie said, her brown eyes sparkling as she contemplated the mischief she could cause. "I'm going to look into it, put out some bait and see if he bites."

Owen tilted his head to the side and asked "Are you feeling alright? You're not making much sense right now."

Billie ignored him, took his wrist, and pulled him along behind her.

* * *

 

"Rivera fig? Really?"

Billie looked down at the bottle she was holding and gave Corvo an apologetic smile. "I know, but we need to start him out with something sweet. He has the taste buds of a ten-year-old."

She stood up and placed the bottle on top of a cask of spiced rum and began scanning the racks again.

The door was open a crack, and outside the kitchen staff passed, doing their best to not notice that the Royal Protector and his guest were raiding the wine cellar.

"How do you feel about brandy?" Billie asked, pulling another bottle off the shelf.

Corvo shrugged and leaned up against the stone wall.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this…" he murmured.

"What? Why not?" Billie shot back. "Just think of it, The Outsider drunk off his flat ass. Who knows what kinds of things will tumble out of his mouth?"

She flashed him a grin, but Corvo wasn't looking at her anymore.

"Or were you not thinking about that part?" Billie asked. She put the brandy down next to the fig wine and planted her hands on her hips.

"You can take one night off. Emily isn't going anywhere. Especially not when she's got Wyman in her bed to keep her company."

Corvo shook his head. "You don't know her like I do. She's restless… gets into all sorts of places."

"Yeah, I noticed that talent while she was in Karnaca, sneaking into the most heavily guarded buildings in the city, and escaping without a scratch," Billie replied dryly. "but you probably don't remember that because you were busy taking a stone nap the entire time."

Corvo's posture stiffened at that observation, but that was about all the acknowledgement she got. Billie sighed, came over to him, and gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but job title aside, you can't protect Emily all the time. Sure, you could have seen Dalilah coming, but even if you had, you wouldn't have been able to stop her on your own. It took us two months to untangle her web, and that was after all her pieces were on the table."

Billie paused to examine the Royal Protector's expression. Decades of standing beside the throne had given him quite the poker face, but it didn't hide the lines in his face or the dark circles under his eyes.

"Emily grew into a strong, and very capable woman because of you. Maybe it's time to take a step back and realise that you've done your job," Billie added.

Billie teetered on the edge of what she wanted to say next. She knew she was the very last person who should go about prying into this, but that didn't make her point less valid.

"Just for example, since jessamine died, have you...?" Billie met Corvo's gaze and gave him a pointed look, filling in the gaps in what she was saying.

Corvo shrugged her hand off and muttered, "That's none of your business."

Billie nodded and went to collect the bottles she had already picked out. "It could be my business."

She grabbed a bottle of strong looking whisky and checked to make sure it wasn't meant for cooking.

"I won't make you admit to it. If the answer is no, just say nothing. "

Corvo crossed his arms over his chest, somehow managing to glare at her while also not looking in her direction.

"That's what I thought," Billie concluded. She paused to unscrew the top off the whisky bottle and took a swig before passing it to Corvo.

"Come on, Owen is waiting for us."

* * *

 

Billie gently pushed the glass door closed until she herd the soft click of the lock.

The inward facing balcony that looked out over the main entrance hall was quite the interesting architectural feature, but it also acted as a sound funnel when the door was open.

Although it would be hilarious to have the guard rush in, fearing for the Royal Protector's safety, only to find him pinning a pale youth to his bed; she would rather not be interrupted.

She walked back past the fireplace and settled on the bed beside the two men. She was dressed in nothing more than her stays, though that still left her the most clothed out of the three of them.

Corvo panted heavily, catching his breath in-between kissing Owen. Corvo looked up at her, his grip around Owen's wrists tightening.

"You had this planned the entire time, didn't you?" He muttered.

Billie smirked. "It was Owen's idea." She reached over to run her fingers through Owen's tousled hair. "I didn't know if you'd take to him, but I'm guessing he did."

"I don't know anything, I just suspect," Owen corrected.

Billie sighed and gave Corvo a weary look. "Yes, he still does the cryptic shit in bed. My advice is to hurry up and get to the part where he can't speak anymore."

Corvo nodded and moved his hands from Owen's wrists to his hips. "Yeah, right..."

Billie heard the hesitation in his tone but didn't have the opportunity to extrapolate what it meant before Owen explained, "Corvo's never lain with another man before, he may need your guidance."

Billie huffed and leaned over to take the bottle of lube from the table at the end of Corvo's bed.

"Utterly hopeless, the pair of you," Billie said with a roll of her eyes.

She slipped her arms under Owen's shoulders and sat behind him cross-legged, with his head resting on her lower tummy.

She flipped the bottle in her hand, then unscrewed the top and passed it to Corvo.

"Cover your fingers in this, I'll hold him still for you," she instructed.

Owen obediently parted his legs for Corvo, one arm reaching over his head and wrapping around Billie's lower back.

Corvo did as he was told, though he did hesitate for a moment before sliding his index finger into Owen's tight hole. The desperate moan it earned him was encouraging to say the least.

"Perfect. Owen, tell Corvo how much you appreciate him taking care of you," Billie said.

Owen swallowed. "T-thank you, Corvo…"

Corvo grit his teeth. He was really not prepared for this. The buzz of the alcohol he'd already had was only making it harder not to be utterly overwhelmed.

It all seemed to move in fast motion after that. Billie's calm voice pulling him along as he stretched Owen open enough to accommodate him. The younger man made his enjoyment known by squirming and calling out their names.

Then Corvo had his hands back on Owen's hips and was staring into his olive-green eyes.

"Ready?" Billie asked.

Owen nodded emphatically, tilting his hips up, offering himself with an eagerness Corvo couldn't have imagined he was capable of.

"Y-yeah…" he agreed.

"Good, help me roll him over."

Owen let himself be moved, ending up with his back pressed against Corvo's chest. Billie placed her hands over Corvo's, and together they guided him down.

It hurt just a bit, but somehow that only made it better. Corvo was panting heavily in his ear, and Owen could feel the older man's heartbeat against his back.

Billie licked her lips, drinking in the sight in front of her. Corvo was clinging so tightly to Owen it seemed like a wonder he could still breath.

"I know it's been a long time, Corvo, but at this point, you usually start moving," Billie teased. Corvo shot a glare over Owen's shoulder at her and Owen let out a thin laugh.

Corvo did take her suggestion though, much to Owen's immediate delight. He rocked with Corvo, though his eagerness was mostly just preventing Corvo from getting into a steady rhythm.

"Much better than just fingers?" Billie prompted.

Owen moaned loudly in response and added, "Corvo, faster."

"He could go faster if you stopped flopping like a dying fish," Billie muttered.

She gently took Owen by the shoulders and pulled him down onto the mattress. Corvo resisted for a moment, not wanting to relax his bear hug, but he realised that things would go much smoother with Owen on his knees between them.

Owen settled onto his elbows, hips held up for Corvo. He was so hard that his cock was practically rubbing up against his lower tummy even with gravity against it.

Billie cupped Owen's cheek in her hand, lifting his chin up until he was looking at her. "While you're down there, why don't you make yourself useful?"

Owen blinked at her, confused for a moment until Billie shifted back and opened her legs. She parted her lower lips with two perfectly-placed fingers.

Owen reached for her and Billie shifted closer, letting him get a good hold on her upper thighs.

Billie gasped as his hot tongue slid over her, slow and easy. Billie had learned the hard way that assigning him this task and expecting quick results was a bit Like asking a kitten not to play with its food.

Thanks to Corvo though, Owen had other things on his mind. Billie leaned back against the headboard if the Lord Protector's bed and rested her hand on the back of Owen's head.

Corvo gently worked his fingers into the curve of Owen's hips. Billie thought about giving him some pointers but decided it would be more interesting to watch him figure it out.

Corvo leaned forward, tracing Owen's hipbone until he found his way to wrapping his thick fingers around the younger man's cock.

Owen moaned against Billie, and she had to grit her teeth to keep herself still.

At this angle, Corvo's eyes were partially covered by his hair and Billie could see the thin grey streaks hiding in his bangs. Sometimes she forgot that Corvo was only a few years younger then the old knife himself had been. Not that she was one to talk, with four decades already behind her.

Owen's tongue dipped into her and Billie almost banged her head against the wall as the blot of pleasure fired up her spine.

Billie swore, but the poison words were tinged with affection. She kept playing with Owen's hair, pushing it away from those gorgeous green eyes.

Owen swirled his tongue in slow, steady circles around her clit. Billie tensed, she could have resisted him for longer but she also eager to see what came next.

Billie surrendered herself to him, her eyes shut tight and her chest heaving with deep breaths. Owen didn't stop till she pulled away. He blinked up at Billie, licking the last of her from his lips.

Billie growled under her breath and pinned him back against Corvo, adding her fingers around his cock. Billie met Corvo's eyes over Owen's shoulder. "I want to watch you fill him up."

Corvo's eyes widened. He wasn't used to receiving requests quite like that one. Owen giggled breathlessly and added, "Yes please, Corvo..."

The Royal Protector tightened his arms around Owen's middle and nuzzled into his shoulder.

If Billie didn't know better, she would almost think Lord Corvo was hiding a blush.

Corvo picked up the pace, Owen melted against him, only saying upright because of his two companions.

Owen's breath hitched as Corvo suddenly stilled. He had about a half second to wonder what it was going to feel like before the warm rush of heat inside him answered that question most suitably.

Billie squeezed her fingers tight around Corvo's. Owen's lighter higher moans mixing with Corvo's near-growls as he finished.

Owen was too light-headed to notice the moment of translation, but by the time his breathing was back to normal, he found himself laying on Corvo's bed, four arms around his middle and chest.

Owen pressed his legs together, feeling the sticky mess on his upper thighs. He didn't really mind the feeling. It was rather gratifying in a strange way, having the very graphic evidence right there.

Owen pulled his two companions closer. Corvo adjusted so his right arm wrapped around Owen and rested on Billie's shoulder. Similarly, she reached out to him over the pillows and slipped her fingers into his hair.

'This must be why cats purr', Owen thought to himself. Not that he would start purring, only that he felt like he could.

He let his eyes close, slipping down into sleep.

* * *

 

Emily carefully balanced the silver tray on one hand, keeping an eye on it as she walked down the hall to make sure she wasn't spilling the coffee.

The poor kitchen maid that usually delivered the Lord Protector's breakfast had been utterly beside herself when she had realized Emily intended to take over her duties this morning.

Emily had to hope one of the more senior staff would take the girl aside and assure her that this was a common occurrence and that she wasn't going to be tried for treason because the Empress had carried a tray thirty feet.

It may have been a disgrace for Empress Kaldwin to bring food to her bodyguard, but Emily Attano loved the smile on her father's face when she gently shook him awake.

Emily reached the pair of double doors leading to her father's chambers and pushed them open with her shoulder. She went over to the small table near the end of his bed, placed the tray down, and looked over.

Then Emily very slowly backed out of the room and closed the door behind her.

She rested with her shoulder blades against the hardwood and took several deep, calming breaths. She glanced around and spotted a chambermaid walking down the hall, holding a dustbin full of ashes.

Emily straightened the fall of her suit jacket and strode over to the woman.

"Excuse me,"

The maid gasped and fell into a deep bow.

"Your Majesty-!"

"I need you to go down to the kitchen to deliver a message," Emily instructed, cutting her off before she could heap praise, or worse, apologies, upon her.

"Tell the head cook to send breakfast for three more up to the Royal Protector's chambers… And extra tea. Black Barron, the strong stuff, and coffee, lots of coffee."

Emily paused to think of anything else she might need.

"And a bottle of whisky. If there's any left..."

The maid nodded and bowed again before scurrying off.

Emily returned to the entrance to her father's bedroom, reached for the handle, thought better of it and stepped back.

Her entire adult life Emily had been taught to keep her composure under even the most trying of circumstances. She was meant to be the firm rock at the centre of the empire, a living testament to their strength and civility.

But every once and a while, Emily wished she could just let it all out. Have one moment where she could be the spoiled child she was always accused of being in the gossip columns and behind closed doors.

Emily took a deep breath. She would let herself have this, just for a moment. One single moment to express everything she was feeling right now.

Emily took a few steps away from the doors, opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs.


	4. Let's Not Make It Complicated

Emily Drexel Lela (Attano) Kaldwin I sat strait-backed in her chair. She held her bone-china cup with only her thumb and the first two fingers of her right hand, while the left gently held the saucer underneath.

She took a long sip and primly placed the cup down, folding her hands in her lap before addressing her guests.

From right to left there was; Owen, wearing one of her father's nightshirts and a smile; Billie, in her stays and bloomers, halfway through a generous portion of blood oxen cutlets; and last but not least, Corvo, also in a nightshirt and staring down at his eggs like they were the executioner's block.

"-Captain Taylor completed her survey of all assigned patrols in the area, and no one reported seeing anything out of the ordinary until the mural was discovered," Emily continued.

Billie leaned over to get another look at the sketches. They weren't exactly works of fine art, though that may have been less because of the skill of the artist than the fact that the hand drawing the lines had never stopped shaking.

"Those bits there and there could be smatterings of the ancient alphabet… or squiggles I guess, there's not a lot of difference." Billie observed, pointing to the patterns of concentric circles around the top.

"That's what I thought," Emily agreed. "But even if that's the case, it hardly helps us, since no one on this side of the void can read it."

Emily ran a perfectly polished fingernail over the topmost sketch, tracing the never-ending stream of tears flowing from the eyes of the woman in the centre.

"Samples from the markings were sent to the Academy of Natural Philosophy. They're still running tests, but they're reasonably certain it's a garden variety chalk available at any corner store… but the manufacturing process for chalk like this usually involves using ground up whalebone for its calcium component."

Emily didn't have to elaborate on what that might mean to her advisors, each had either used artefacts carved from whale bones or inspired their creation.

"Is the mural still up?" Billie asked.

"No. The captain did what she could, but she's powerless if the owner of the building won't press charges."

"Let me guess, the Abby got involved?"

"When the choice was between his country and his Immortal soul, he chose the latter," Emily confirmed.

"It has to be The Eyeless. Only they would pull this kind of shit," Billie said firmly, pushing the last of her breakfast away and standing up. She retrieved her coat from the floor of the royal protector's chamber and pulled it on over her shoulders.

Corvo picked up his coffee mug, looking firmly at his daughter as he spoke, even though he meant the question to be for Billie.

"Didn't you say that The Eyeless forbid the study of the ancient alphabet?"

Billie pulled her pants back on and fastened the buttons around her hips. "That was when it was the key to releasing their best-kept secret. Who knows what they've been fucking with now they don't have their precious god watching over them?"

Billie came back over to the table, now fully dressed. "I'm going to do a little digging," she explained. She paused next to Owen and leaned in for a brief kiss.

She straightened and glanced over at Corvo, who still wasn't looking at her. Whatever she had been planning to do next, Billie reconsidered and headed for the door.

"Best of luck!" Emily called after her, but Billie was already gone.

Owen reached over and moved the sketches closer to him. "May I keep these for a bit?"

"Sure. Do you think you might be able to decipher the meaning?"

"I will try, but depending on who created it and their motivations, it could mean almost anything, or even nothing at all."

Owen examined the drawing again. The lady in the centre drew the eye to her, but as you gazed longer at it, the tiny details in the background began to stand out. There were people in tiny boats floating in the ocean of tears, clinging desperately to one another as the water level rose.

There were also shapes in the water, though with only a rough copy, it was impossible to tell if it was meant to be anything more than waves.

"Magic and creative expression are two sides of the same coin," Owen explained. "Over the ages, I saw the void crafted with everything from cast iron skillets to interpretive dance."

"I always found it ironic how those with great potential for magic but with little understanding, would ignore pastimes that would have helped them achieve their ends because it didn't match the current society's collective assumptions. Our dear friend Sokolov was a prime example. He worked more magic with his paintbrush than he ever did with his misguided rituals. Yet he was convinced that I was more interested in seeing blood ruin the carpet than watching him capture and transform the world around him with nothing but a few swirls of colour."

Owen glanced up, blinking rapidly as if he had just snapped out of a trance. "Oh, I'm rambling, aren't I? You two really do spoil me, letting me talk at you for hours."

He laughed and rose from his seat. He hadn't eaten much, but his companions were already used to his strange fluctuations in apatite.

"Thanks for inviting me to breakfast, Empress," Owen said with only the barest hint of irony (She had walked in on them after all).

He gave her a little bow and left the room through the same door Billie had.

"That was less informative than I was hoping..." Emily said.

She finished off her tea and leaned back in her chair, abandoning her aristocratic posture. Emily looked over at her father and the untouched mug of coffee he was still only holding.

"Dad, is there something wrong? You've been awfully quiet."

Corvo put the mug down and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "Emily, last night… it was a mistake. We all had too much to drink, and things just…" Corvo trailed off and shook his head. "It won't happen again."

"Oh…" Emily replied, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Are you sure?"

"What?"

"I'll admit I was a little surprised at first but… now that we've had a moment to calm down…"

Emily sighed and changed tactics. "Do you remember that time I set you up on a date with Lady Windstrop, and you ended the night by throwing yourself off a rooftop to escape her?"

Corvo winced and nodded. That had been a very long night.

"Well, let's just say that I didn't do that because I wanted to torture you," Emily explained. "Ever since Wyman and I got together I've been wondering if you might…"

Emily looked over at her father. He was still sitting stiffly, closed off to her. He was listening though, she could tell.

"It's been a long time… You know that mom wouldn't want you to mourn her forever."

Emily could almost feel the weight of her mother's clockwork heart in her hand as she said this. She hadn't wanted to say goodbye… but in the end, she was glad that she had. It was unfair to try to force her mother to live on long after her time, on her and on them.

But Corvo had not been there to see Jessamine off into the beyond, and so it fell to Emily to deliver her mother's final message.

"It's your life, I can't tell you what you should do… but knowing your preferences, I don't think that there's anyone else in the empire who would suit you better than a deposed God and a supernatural ex-assassin."

"Really?" Corvo raised his eyebrows at her. Emily smirked and shrugged.

"What can I say? You don't have simple tastes. I think mom liked that. Even though she was an Empress, you still wouldn't have given her a second look if she hadn't been sharp minded and engaging."

Emily pushed her chair back and stood. "I guess I'm saying that love doesn't care what form it takes or what obstacles are in its way. I have to believe that since I wouldn't be here if it weren't true."

Emily glanced at the grandfather clock near the door and flinched.

"I better go. I've already irrevocably damaged my schedule for today. Poor Mr Plainstow will have to spend all morning trying to rebuild it."

Emily leaned in to press a kiss to her father's cheek. "I'll see you later, dad."

* * *

 

Owen rarely found occasion to visit the throne room, even now that he was a permanent resident of the tower.

As far as he could tell, the primary use of the room was to reinforce the power and dignity of the Empress. No one else was permitted to sit when Emily was holding court, (unless they were unable to stand at all) and no one could turn their back on her.

These rules led to some often-hilarious footwork as nobles came forward to kiss their Empress's hand then backed away as if they were afraid she might bite them.

Owen's favourite example of this was the yearly 'coming out' ceremony. Every young woman with even a modest amount of coin and social standing arrived on the doorstep of the tower to present herself to the Empress, and formally make her transition from the schoolroom to the marriage market.

Young ladies practiced their footwork for months, heaping bags of coin were spent on hats, vails, and suits, and the streets around the tower became so clogged with carriages that the city-center ground to a halt; all so poor Emily could sit on her royal hindquarters for ten hours and watch people awkwardly shuffle in and out of a room.

But you would never catch the Empress complaining. Especially after the year when Wyman took that short walk toward her Empress.

The moment had even drawn the attention of The Outsider, (it wasn't every day an Empress fell in love) and Owen could still picture it in his mind.

Wyman had waited her turn four hours, enduring the stares and whispers of the other girls around her. At one point a guard had tried to pull her out of line, and she had only been saved by the timely intervention of Captain Mayhew, who had special orders from the chief secretary to keep an eye out for her.

Wyman had spent most of the time stewing over whether or not she should go through with it. She was never going to be accepted by the aristocracy at large, so it hardly even mattered that she had gone through the motions.

She wasn't doing this for them though, she was here because she wanted to be. After years of dreaming about her coming out, she was finally here, against all the odds.

And didn't she owe it to others like herself? As far as she knew she was the first to be presented to the Empress, and if others could follow in her footsteps, she might not be the last.

But then again, if she messed this up, if she faced the wrong way or tripped in her heeled boots, it would prove that giving her this chance had been a mistake.

She knew exactly what they would say. That it was a mistake to even let a person like her near the Empress. How could anyone have expected anything else? Only a real woman had the natural pose and dignity to complete the proper manoeuvres.

And so, Wyman's thoughts spiralled for hours until she was tapped on the shoulder by a woman holding a clipboard and told she was to go next.

"Lady Wyman Barrell."

The room was oddly silent despite the number of people inside. Music played from somewhere behind the throne, and high-ranking members of the court stood on either side of the blue carpet, watching the proceeding.

Wyman took small, careful steps. Her shoulders back and her eyes fixed forwards on the Empress and her throne.

The brass relief of Emily's face printed on coins, or even the paintings that hung in Imperial offices, hadn't done much to prepare Wyman for seeing her in the flesh. Emily was utterly breathtaking, a picture of understated perfection, with a roman nose to match.

Wyman felt her heart flutter inside her chest and she almost missed a step. Every eye in the room was on her, but the only thing she could see was the angelic beauty sitting on her throne.

Wyman kneeled on the small step leading up to the throne, gently pulled back the veil on her humongous white hat, and folded it around, so it fell on the back of her head now.

Emily offered her hand and Wyman took it in both of hers. She pressed her lips to Emily's fingers. The Empress's skin was remarkably soft, and Wyman was almost reluctant to pull away.

She looked up at Emily. Bracing herself for a look of confusion or even revulsion, but there was only a warm smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Emily said, placing her hand back in her lap.

Wyman stood and began to back away. This was the part she had been the most worried about, but with her eyes fixed on Emily, the moments passed like seconds and the next thing she knew she was being led away by a servant, back down the stone stairs and to her carriage.

Wyman wouldn't know till much later, but at that moment when she approached the Empress, she had shone like a full moon against a dark sky.

It took a lot to stand out among an endless procession of the wealthiest and best dressed of the empire, but she had more than managed it with only her baring and the spark in her eyes. Emily would remember, and when the guest list for the royal summer ball was being drawn up, she would ask for her by name.

In one of the great coincidences of life, this pivotal moment occurred in almost exactly the same place as a similar one in 1816, when the previous Duke Abel had presented Corvo Attano to the Emperor, and he had knelt to kiss the hand of princess Jessamine.

At the moment though, there was very little fire left in Wyman's eyes as she stood beside Emily's throne. The Empress seemed to share her foreboding and was sitting with her hands folded tightly in her lap.

Owen considered asking what the matter might be or why he had been sent for, but seeing as neither Empress or Lady seemed forthcoming, he decided to simply take his place on Emily's other side and wait to see what happened next.

The doors opened, and Corvo entered. He stopped and held the heavy wooden door for a man he was escorting.

He had the short white hair and a receding hairline of an old man but walked with the assuredness of a twenty-year-old. A loud clang echoed through the throne room with every step, Owen leaned over just a little to get a better look and found that from the knee-down his left foot was made of metal and gears. Almost like he had taken a clockwork soldier and snapped off its leg to use for himself.

He wore a large navy-blue pea coat that gave a very strong hint to his profession, but if that still wasn't enough, he also had a miniaturised harpoon gun slung over one shoulder. The sharp end pointing towards the sky.

Owen was amazed that Corvo hadn't been able to disarm the man. He must be very important or have something very important, in addition to being stubborn enough to resist Corvo's insistences.

A moment after the two men entered, Billie slipped through the closing doors. She flashed Corvo a complex hand gesture, then faded into the shadows.

Owen straitened up, pretending as if he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary.

"Eh, boy! Why in the name of the outsider, are you dressed like that? Those fluffy frills aren't fooling anyone," The man shouted waving his hand in Wyman's direction.

Wyman dropped into a full court curtsy. Employing the long-held tactic of aristocratic ladies sometimes referred to as 'kill them with kindness'.

"Grandfather, when you are in the throne room, it's impolite not to acknowledge the Empress first," Wyman replied.

"Lord Frances Barrell…" Emily began, drawing herself up to her full seated hight.

"You can take your fancy title and shove it up your arse, Empress. I'm Frank and nothing else, no matter how many Baronets you bestow on my useless son."

Emily maintained her neutral expression, though Owen could have sworn he saw her eye twitch.

"Well, Frank. You do realise talking so crudely to an Empress is an offence punishable by up to ten years in Coldridge prison?"

"I think that's mighty unlikely Empress. Not while there's still the possibility of me becoming your grandfather in law."

"At this point, I'm honestly considering asking you to lock him up as an engagement gift…" Wyman muttered under her breath.

Emily cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the room back to her. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, you are here of your own free will to give a warning to the court. Could you please elaborate?"

Frank nodded and planted both hands on his hips. "yeah see, the boys and I were heading back after a successful run. We've got a bigun lashed in the back, moaning and screaming like a newborn babe. Bleeding something fierce too. Robin swore that it'd die before we made it back, but I says to him that I've been doing this for fifty years and aren't never lost a whale when I didn't mean to."

"Can we please get to the point?" Emily interrupted.

Frank scoffed. "What is it with youngins always wanting to rush about? You should try living a little."

"I am dealing with matters of national importance that affect the lives of millions of people."

"Pfft… Well, aren't you fancy?"

Emily buried her face in both hands and sighed deeply.

"Em, let's just get him out of here. He clearly doesn't have anything useful for us…" Wyman suggested.

Emily looked from her lover to her father and nodded, "Corvo, please escort Lord Frances back to the carriage."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait." Frank protested, taking a step away from the approaching lord protector. "Listen, I saw it with my own two eyes, yah hear? Big as twenty trawlers stacked end to end!"

"Saw what?" Emily pressed, most of her Empress's composure having long deserted her.

"A whale, as white as snow and with eyes burning like blood!" Frank said, gesturing wildly as if he could emulate the massive scale of what he was describing with his human arm-span. "It had a symbol on it's back. It looked like most of a circle, but with the bottom bit cut out and pealed to either side."

Emily sat back in her chair, stunned. She glanced over and asked, "Owen do you still have the..."

Owen already had the sketch out of his pocket. He unfolded it and passed it to the Empress. The symbol Frank had just described sat right above the crying woman, dead centre in the image.

Billie approached the throne, appearing out of thin air. She leaned over the Empress's shoulder and delivered a simple but very applicable bit of commentary.

"Well, fuck."


	5. A Pair of Curious Correspondence

It took some fiddling with the flat of a knife, but eventually, Billie found the clasp and pulled open the window. She slipped quietly into the lavish hotel room, followed closely by Corvo. They stood back to back in the dining room, surveying their surroundings.

It was the largest room offered by the grand hotel, a four-bedroom suite with a common living and dining room. It looked completely ordinary at first glance, but then you noticed the papers covered in inscrutable symbols strewn around and the strange instruments made of bone, metal, and seawater.

"Whelp, this is the place," Billie murmured. "I don't know how long they're going to be gone, so we better work quick."

She started with the papers on the desk, giving each a scan before tossing it aside. Meanwhile, Corvo did a quick circuit of the room, spying into each of the bedrooms.

"Someone is sleeping in the northwest room," Corvo informed her. "We should be fine as long as we keep quiet."

Billie nodded as she shoved a pile of receipts onto the floor. Corvo glanced from them to her and muttered, "I don't think that they're just going have a note lying around where they meticulously explain their evil plans…"

"Have you got a better idea?"

Corvo frowned. Billie did have a point. He wasn't really the plan making type. He could think several steps ahead in combat, but anything further in the future than the next two hours was beyond his abilities.

"What do these people want anyway?" Corvo asked.

Billie unfolded a large piece of paper that turned out to be nothing more than a blank map of the city. She tossed it on the floor with the rest.

"The Eyeless are powerful, crazy, and worst of all; scared. They genuinely believe that the void tells them what they have to do to please it, and if they don't listen and follow through, it will consume the universe."

Corvo swallowed. Having seen the void for himself, it didn't seem like that far of a stretch.

"Could they be right?"

"No. The void doesn't want anything. It's just an endless, chaotic… well, void. They might as well be worshipping a hole in the grou…."

Billie trailed off mid-word, all her attention focused on the letter she was holding.

"Oh, fuck…" Billie breathed.

"What?"

"It's a draft of a letter," Billie explained passing it to Corvo.

> Dear Exalted One,
> 
> We have arrived in Dunwall, and have commenced operations. So far, all suspicions have been confirmed. The raven is in the tower and is being protected both directly and indirectly by the crow and the magpie. Both have been observed in flight. The Extent of their ability currently unknown.
> 
> We have also located the rat. It has been observed scurrying across the rooftops late at night and seems to be tracking our movements. As per your orders, we will not engage with it directly.
> 
> The crow had served the raven for longer than the magpie, so we believe that the magpie should be the primary target for the first wave of our campaign.
> 
> I will write again with the results,
> 
> Jordan

"The names are written in code," Corvo observed.

"Yeah, and a pretty sloppy one at that," Billie replied with a scoff. "The three birds mentioned are all members of the corvid family. The raven is Owen since he's clearly their prime concern. Crows are the largest bird out of the set, so that's probably you. That leaves Emily as the magpie… and I'm the rat. I think they might still be angry about that time I dismantled a large portion of their shitty cult."

"They plan to target Emily?" Corvo asked.

"Sounds like it."

Billie heard Corvo moving away, and when she looked up, he was already halfway back out the window.

"Where are you going?!" Billie hissed. Then when she didn't get an answer, she shouted, "Corvo!"

A thud and a sudden string of curses came from the occupied room. Billie prepared to summon her sword, then glanced back at the window. Corvo was already long gone.

Billie knew she could take one guy easily, but she had also promised Emily she wouldn't commit any more serious criminal offences. Technically, The Eyeless were in the right since Billie had broken into their hotel room and if she defended herself, it would be on her head.

So, by the time the man stumbled out of his room, swinging his sword about like he was trying to swat a swarm of blood flies off his head, Billie was long gone.

* * *

 

It didn't take Billie long to find Corvo. As soon as she arrived at Dunwall tower, she asked after the Empress and learned she was having lunch in her rooms.

Billie took the stairs up, and sure enough, Emily was sitting in her living room sharing a watercress salad with Wyman, while a very awkward Corvo stood off to the side.

"Empress, good to see your head still shares company with your shoulders," Billie said as she approached, her gaze fixed on Corvo over Emily's shoulder.

"Ummm…. Thanks?" Emily replied. She glanced from Billie to her father, then nodded. "oh, I see."

"I don't see. Am I missing something?" Wyman asked.

Emily shushed her confused girlfriend with a pat on the knee and pulled on the chain holding her navy blue and gold reticule around her shoulder. "It's good you're both here anyway. You need to read this." Emily opened it with a sharp snap and pulled out a letter. The top was open, but it had been neatly folded back inside its envelope.

"It came with the morning post. My secretary almost threw it away, but I'd told him to keep anything bearing unusual markings."

Emily held out the letter and Billie took it. She turned it over in her hand and spotted the symbol on the back, a slanted V and T connected by a semicircle.

"Eyeless," Billie concluded. "I guess this is what they meant by 'the first wave'." She glared over at Corvo again, just in case he failed to get the message, then she opened it and read allowed.

> Your Imperial Highness Emily Kaldwin,
> 
> We write to you today not as members of our organisation, but as concerned citizens of our fair empire and fellow conscious inhabitants of this planet.

"Pretentious assholes..." Billie muttered.

> A dark cataclysm is brewing. One that threatens to destroy everything we know and love. There are forces in this universe beyond our understanding, and these forces have been disrupted by the callous intervention of the short-sighted and ignorant.

"They mean me, by the way."

> This may sound like hyperbole or the suspicious ranting of those who spend too long in the dark corners of the world, but please consider the ruins that lie under the foundations of the very tower you stand in and think back to the leaders who allowed their civilizations to crumble because they refused to consider the possibility of all they had built coming to an abrupt end.
> 
> We implore you to allow us to speak with you so that we can explain our findings and hopefully come to an accord that will see the empire towards it's rightfully bright and glorious future.
> 
> Yours respectfully,
> 
> The Eyeless

Billie finished and tossed the letter down on the table. "Well, that's the biggest pile of bullshit I've ever read."

Emily nodded, though the tight set of her lips told a different story.

Wyman shifted closer to Emily. "I don't know. It all sounds very ominous. I've got a chill running down my spine. Look Em, goosebumps," Wyman said offering her arm to the Empress to see.

Emily rolled her eyes but pulled Wyman into a hug anyway.

"I think we should agree to the meeting," Emily said.

"What?" Billie snapped.

Emily held firm, sitting up as straight as she could with Wyman clinging to her. "There's been reports of unusual weather across the empire. Snow in Karnaca, a thunderstorm lasting three full days in Tyvia, sunshine in Morley."

"Sunshine in Morley?" Wyman repeated in abject horror.

Emily nodded gravely and continued, "We also have some unsettling reports from farmers in the lowlands. Apparently, the animals are acting strangely. One farmer reported finding a wolfhound nesting peacefully among his chickens, while another swears his blood-ox have been walking on two legs."

"So? Old men tell stories," Billie replied firmly. "This is clearly all part of The Eyeless's plan. The Whalers used this exact technique all the time. You just plant some spooky shit, then sit back while the mark gets so paranoid that they see assassins hiding behind every street corner. Plenty of strange things happen every day. It's only an omen if you trick yourself into thinking it is."

The room fell silent as Billie's speech sunk in.

"But then, how did grandfather know about the symbol on the mural?" Wyman asked.

Billie opened her mouth to reply then closed it again when she realised she didn't have anything to say to that.

"Could've been a coincidence…" she murmured. "Or the Eyeless paid him off?

"He doesn't need money, we have every luxury imaginable at our estate. He only goes out hunting whales because that's what his father did before him, or some such nonsense…"

A cough from the inner doorway drew the attention of the room, and Owen strode into their midst. No one bothered asking if he had been listening in to their conversation.

"You know, you could have saved a lot of energy if you'd just come and asked me," Owen said.

"If you want to be in the know, then you should make yourself easier to find," Emily countered. "I had a poor chambermaid running around for hours looking for you."

"You did? Uh... regardless, we should meet with them. At the least, we'll learn what their motivations are, and at most they'll give us some insight on the state of the void."

Emily started to reply only to be cut off by Billie.

"No. We are not doing this. Absolutely not. I rolled over last time, but this is too far." Billie strode over to Owen, who took a small step back when confronted with her full indignation.

"I will not stand by and let the people who abused and imprisoned you walk into this tower and take another shot. I don't care what information they claim to have. We won't be able to trust any of it, because all they care about is getting their victim back, and they'll say whatever it takes to convince Emily to give you up."

"I would never agree to that!" Emily protested.

Billie turned to her, a bitter glower on her lips. "Yes, you would, empress. Only a selfish ruler would consider sacrificing the whole kingdom for one man, and you aren't selfish."

Emily blinked back at her, wanting to defend herself but not quite sure from what anymore.

A hand reached out and wrapped around Billie's wrist. She turned back to Owen, who reached up to cup her cheek in his hands.

"It's okay," he murmured. "I understand why you're trying to protect me, but I can handle The Eyeless."

Billie's shoulders dropped, and she took a deep breath. His calm making her realise how heated she had let herself get.

"How do you know that?" She asked. "Aside from giving me this-" Billie lifted her right arm, turning it to show off the gaps and the bones. "You've never done a thing to stop them. You can't just hide in the void and ignore them anymore."

Owen nodded and gently took her hands in both of his. "When The Eyeless first found me, I was scared and alone in the world. This time will be different because I have friends to back me up."

"Awwwwwww," Wyman coed from somewhere the background.

Billie sighed and pulled Owen into a soft kiss. "Fine," she muttered against his lips. Then as she pulled away added, "but I want all of us to be there. Since we can't let the guard sit in on the meeting, I want to be prepared for anything.

"Of course," Emily agreed. "I'll also limit them to five, so we won't be outnumbered."

"Five?" Billie asked.

"Counting Wyman."

Billie looked over at the woman clad in frills and a pair of perfectly-pressed high waisted pants.

Wyman must have noticed her sceptical eyebrow raise because she fired back, "What? I can fight! You realise that coming from a family of traders, I've had to help fend off pirates?"

Emily laughed and reached around to poke her partner in the stomach. "Wy has even beaten me a few times."

"Only because you let yourself get distracted! Honestly, I don't know how you managed to take down a whole coven of witches when you can't even keep your eyes of my backside!"

Billie glanced over from the two women back to the now empty spot Corvo had been standing in. The calm Owen had instilled it her evaporated instantly.

"You're not getting away that easily," Billie grumbled. She slipped out of Owen's arms and half-sprinted after Corvo.

"I think that means 'let's finish this conversation later' Owen supplied.

* * *

 

"What the hell was that?!"

Billie's question rung out across the empty courtyard, making Corvo stop dead in his tracks. Billie caught up to him, inserting herself directly in his path.

"It took a whole month to track The Eyeless down, and thanks to your stunt they're probably halfway across Dunwall by now," Billie said.

Corvo glared back at her. "Emily could have been in danger."

Billie stamped her foot in the dirt. "That doesn't even make sense! Why would The Eyeless target the empress? They haven't ever messed with politics. They don't respect power on this side of the void any more than I could comfortably spit out a rat!"

Corvo crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off. Billie hated when he got like this, especially because it reminded her of Daud. It honestly made her wonder if being honest with their feelings would actually kill them.

"If we had come back from our mission with any useful information, we might have bypassed this stupid meeting. They've got us all on the back foot because you got skittish!"

Corvo wasn't looking at her anymore. Billie followed his gaze to the small gazebo overlooking the ocean.

"You don't understand," Corvo muttered under his breath.

Billie kept her eyes on the gazebo. The tiny white structure had once only been a footnote to the lush garden around it. Right up until she had pointed to it on a map and said, 'this is where she'll be'.

"I don't? Corvo, look who you're talking to. I think I understand better than anyone."

Billie sighed. She had always known that she and Corvo would have to have this talk. Or maybe 'admission' was a closer word.

"I know that you still torture yourself thinking about what you could have done to save Jessamine…" Billie began, she didn't want to have to do this but so far trying to nudge Corvo hadn't worked. So, it was this, or give up altogether. "-but the truth is that you didn't have a hope in the void."

"You can't know that," Corvo replied. His posture and expression hadn't changed, but Billie could see his fingers digging into his upper arm.

"I can't? Who do you think planned that mission? Daud? He had better things to do than sit around going over charts for hours." Billie said with a scoff. "Hiram gave us the location and the bait, but I was in charge of everything else. I picked the insertion point, how many of us there were, what powers should be used, and I watched it all unfold from a far better vantage point than you had."

Billie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She still remembered every moment of that attack like it was yesterday. To think she had once been proud of how well it all worked out.

"We outnumbered you 10 to 1, we had powers beyond your understanding. Even if you'd fought us off, I had contingency plans, and we were determined enough to slaughter everyone in the palace if we needed to. There was nothing you could have done. As soon as Daud accepted the payment, Jessamine was going to die. That's just how we operated."

Corvo was shaking now, and Billie couldn't blame him. She was honestly surprised he let her get this far without storming off or clocking her right in the face. Deciding to push her luck even further, Billie reached over and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and took a step closer. He was so tense his skin felt almost like stone.

"You need to forgive yourself. Unlike me, unlike Daud, you did nothing wrong that day. You gave everything you had to protect her, that's all anyone could ever ask."

Billie licked her lips, every part of her screamed that this was a bad idea, but it still wasn't going to stop her. She used the grip on his forearm to steady her as she leaned up and kissed him. The reaction was as immediate as it was expected. Corvo shoved her off him, breaking her grip on his arm by twisting it away from her.

Billie caught herself and stepped back. She had officially overstayed her welcome, anyone could see that. She turned to leave, but before she could take the first step, she was grabbed by the arm and pulled back.

"Don't!" Corvo hissed. Then his hold loosened and he tried again. "Don't go..."

Billie nodded and drifted back to him. She wrapped her arms around him, this time finding him more pliant under her touch. She rested her head on his shoulder and squeezed him tightly. She knew how hard it must be for him to seek comfort from her, but she was also the only one who really understood, so she would have to do.

Billie kissed him again, and this time he returned it. Billie crossed her arm behind his neck, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, Billie pulled back and shot a glare over at a nearby bush. "If you're going to watch, you might as well do it from where we can see you."

A moment later Owen slipped out of the shadows. He stared down at his boots at least looking a little ashamed for eavesdropping.

"Apologies, but that really was quite fascinating…"

Billie rolled her eyes at him and snatched his wrist when he got close enough, pulling him into the hug.

"You need to get over just watching. Your part of this now," Billie chided.

"True," Owen agreed. Taking his turn to lean up and kiss Corvo. Even if his eyes were closed, Corvo could still tell their lips apart. Billie's rough and demanding while Owen's were soft and enticing.

"You know it will take more than your rousing speeches to truly patch up old wounds," Owen said after he dropped back down, looking over at Billie.

"Sometimes you've got to break a bone before it sets, and until then he's got us to take care of him."

Corvo looked from one to the other. Not sure what he should say or if he even needed to respond to that.

He still wasn't used to having both by his side all at once. It just seemed greedy to claim more than one lover, like he was starting an (admittedly profoundly unusual) haram.

But then, none of this had been his idea to start with. He just hadn't managed to dissuade either of them.

He couldn't ignore how good it felt anymore though. Having partners to hold close, people who he could seemingly never spend enough time with who reached in to drag him out of his armoured shell.

It wasn't quite the love he had been used to in another lifetime, but maybe that's why it didn't bother him as much as he thought it should. It didn't trample over his cherished memories, just added to them.

He pulled them both in closer one in each arm. An ex-god and an ex-assassin. Both his.


End file.
